


Tales From the Underworld

by Wallys_hot_mama



Series: The Nightshade Chronicles [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Eventual Romance, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Gen, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Melodrama, Multi, Slow Burn, expect the unexpected
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2020-11-27 03:50:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 51
Words: 80,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallys_hot_mama/pseuds/Wallys_hot_mama
Summary: If you are looking for the Percy Jackson fandom, THIS IS NOT IT.  Neither does this work follow the same concept as the comic Lore Olympus.  Please look elsewhere.In the interest of those with me in my Craft, I have changed the names of individual souls to protect them from invocation.An original retelling of several myths and legends, integrated into a single cohesive story.  Hades and his siblings have won the Titanomachy, and Zeus holds the throne of Mt. Olympus.  Hades is the reluctant monarch of the Underworld, misunderstood, agoraphobic, and above all, lonely.  His marriage to Persephone was never anything more than a political jab at his sister, Demeter, and his relationship with the nymph Minthe is nothing but a memory.  He hides from his entourage, tries his utmost to control his unruly children, and his crown does nothing but weigh him down.  What is worse, there is an unspeakable horror that lurks behind the Gates of Tartarus, waiting to be set loose.But Down here, there's still one person who might possibly give him hope.  Or is she Hope, herself?Set before many of the heroic myths, this retelling of ancient Greek mythology sets the characters in a modern, more relatable light.





	1. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected meeting

General Kata groaned and stretched his arms over his head. He was mid-way through his shift, and was allotted a short break soon. “I'm hungry,” he moaned. His wings fluttered, and he tried to resist the urge to stretch them, too. Likely as not, he'd knock the décor off the walls and pedestals if he let them extend.

“You're always hungry,” Orion noted. He was taller than his superior officer, and paler, with a pair of similarly massive wings.

Kata chuckled. “Yeah, well, my metabolism keeps me fit.”

“Fit? You're emaciated.”

Kata angled a glare up at Orion. “Can't you keep your opinions to yourself?”

“You know me better than that.” Orion grinned at him. “Want to go see if Nila's got something to eat?”

Kata's eyes lit up. “Yeah! Maybe we can raid the pantry.”

Orion shook his head. “She's going to smack you with her spoon one of these days.”

They stopped at the adjoining corridor as a couple souls rushed past them. “Let's check the kitchens,” one said to the other.

The two generals looked at one another. Whatever was going on, it seemed like several other people were headed in the same direction they were.

“Want to take the se-” Orion started.

He had meant to say “secret passage,” but Kata elbowed him, which had no effect against Orion's armor except to gently tell him to shut up. “There's a reason it's _secret_,” he hissed. “But yeah, let's do that.”

They skirted the crowds ahead of them, took the right-hand corridor, and Kata kept watch while Orion ducked headfirst into the passage way. The passage passed behind the stoves and came out right beside the pantry, and with any luck, they would both be sated and gone before the head cook noticed.

Nila was busy. Her sleeves were tied up and she had her straight brown hair swept back into a messy pile atop her head, held in place by a ragged bandana. Every eye on her stove was turned on, pots and pans boiling and sending a magnificent cloud of savory aromas throughout the kitchen. This was normal, and the duty of monitoring several dishes at once was one she had mastered. Thirty guests this time; no sweat. The ovens were hot, the lamb was perfectly juicy, and the honey syrup for his Majesty's favorite pistachio baklava was almost ready. She had just sent the sous-chef to begin plating the courses, dismissed the butler after checking the shine on the silver, and everything was going according to plan.

Well, almost everything. The door to the main house slammed open, and Nila startled and jerked around at the sound, nearly dropping her wooden spoon. A tall figure draped in black swept into the kitchen and shut the door behind him with a bang. He was handsome, with dark, wavy hair, high cheekbones and a narrow chin. He was broad in the shoulders, his figure lean, eyes still hollow from the trauma of the Titan Wars. Nila knew his face, as would anyone who lived in this city.

“Lord Hades!” She covered her mouth at the broken taboo. She wasn't supposed to talk to someone of his stature.

He didn't seem to notice. He turned his icy blue eyes on her and hissed a sharp command. “Hide me!”

Nila wordlessly pointed to the pantry door on the opposite side of the stove. The king barreled past her, nearly got tangled in her wings, and caught himself against the far wall. He made no attempt to collect himself; just wrenched open the door and shut himself up in the dark little cellar.

For a few moments, Nila just stood there, bewildered. She had never seen him like that; he was supposed to be poised and majestic, the just and taciturn judge of the ages. He wasn't supposed to need anybody. He wasn't supposed to be scared of anything. What in the nine Circles was he hiding from?

She glanced at the door from whence the king had come and hummed as she heard approaching voices. She crossed the kitchen with the confidence of the head cook in her step, carrying the wooden spoon she intended to swing at anyone stupid enough to come within arm's reach. She flung the door open, and sure enough, there was a gaggle of people coming down the stairs from the main house.

That was about the same moment that Orion pushed open the tiny door at the end of the passage.

“What in the nine Circles do you think you're doing?” she bellowed.

Orion stopped, still hidden in the passage, the door open barely a crack. If she was yelling that loudly, maybe he didn't need to be caught down here.

Kata tried to nudge him forward, but Orion made a gesture to wait, barely discernible in the dim light.

“Is his Majesty down here?” asked one of the people at the kitchen door. A page, Nila thought. Probably a messenger from the front.

His Majesty? Orion poked his head out of the passage and pressed his ear to the pantry door. Heavy, panicked breathing. Gentle rustling. Someone was in there! And then the cook's shouting drowned it out.

“Have you lost your mind?” she asked, her pitch high with feigned frustration. “What would he want down here with me? You think he's going to peel my potatoes for me?”

“Surely you've seen him,” began another. “We've looked everywhere else!”

She wagged her spoon at the soul who had spoken. “Now you listen to me. I have a stove full of work and thirty people to feed in the next hour! I don't have time for this nonsense. Get the hells out of my kitchen!”

Slowly, they turned to meander back up the stairs, into the castle. She made a show of slamming the door angrily behind her, throwing the bolt for good measure. It made no sense to rush now; the lord of the castle was in her kitchen, and Creation knew, they wouldn't eat without him.

In spite of the heat, Orion's blood ran cold. Something was going on in there that they didn't need to be a part of. He turned and urgently waved Kata backward. “Back up!” he hissed. He very quietly shut the passage door, and the two of them retreated into the dark.

Now that the kitchen was empty, Nila took a moment to calm herself. Lord or no, Hades came to her for help; a lowly cook in his castle. She straightened her shift, lowered the heat under a few of her pots, and set down her spoon. She dusted her hands, allowed herself one deep breath, and slowly opened the pantry door.

The room was small, dark, and dry, windowless, with a single alcove for a lantern that she kept lit. It was where she had earned her fear of cramped spaces. She had gotten locked in there once before without one, and vowed never again to let the light go out.

But the king seemed not to share her claustrophobia. He sat in the alcove with the lantern, out of sight of the door. For a brief moment, she wondered if she had imagined the whole thing, and he wasn't in there at all. But then the door creaked, and she heard him move.

“They're gone,” she said softly. Her voice was still shaking with awe.

Slowly, he rose to his full height. He was so tall! How could a man possibly grow so tall, even as a god! She herself was small and svelte, not even as tall as two amphorae stacked atop one another. And yet he held his head down, drawing himself into the shadows in embarrassment. Trying to make himself look as small as he felt. He stayed well back from the door, as if he weren't yet sure he could trust her.

“I ran them off,” she said. “You can come out now.”

He just watched her for a moment, blue eyes searching her for the lie she must be telling. Then he lowered his gaze to the earthen floor. “I'm sorry.” His voice was low and smooth, like fine satin; a purr unlike anything she'd ever heard.

“No, no. Don't be sorry.” She held a hand out to him. “It's all right. I won't let them find you.”

This common woman had offered him her touch! How dare she! And yet... how could she not? She had been kind enough to chase away his entourage, to hide him from the public eyes. Eyes from which he always seemed to be trying to escape. She didn't disdain him. She didn't think worse of him. She was treating him with common goodness. Couldn't he accept, just this once?

Hades reached back and let her take his hand. Her palm was callused, fingers tough from the heat, but dainty and slender. Comfort was in her touch. Or was he imagining it?

She pulled him from the dark, let him clasp her hand as she led him to a weathered farmhouse table and sat him down in a worn leather chair. She rested his hand on his lap, patted his knuckles in a motherly way, and went to the stove to fetch something out of one of her pots. She scooped two heaping spoonfuls of a chunky, fragrant stew into a bowl and set it in front of him with a spoon.

Hades looked at the dish. “What is it?” he asked simply.

She didn't seem surprised by his directness. “Lamb stew. You'll like it.”

“How would you know?”

“You like my kafta well enough,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “Trust me, you'll like it.”

He studied her for a moment, and in that moment Nila seemed to realize something of immense importance: he didn't want her subservience. He didn't want her to kowtow to him, to bow and scrape like so many did in the face of the Great Equalizer.

He picked up the spoon and took a hasty bite of the stew, apparently intending to placate the woman feeding it to him. Cinnamon and clove, bay leaf and oregano hit him, saturated his palate. He made a surprised noise in his throat and turned his eyes down at the bowl. Good, warm peasant food. He relaxed his pace and contentedly took another bite.

Nila hummed bemusedly and dusted her hands with pride. She said nothing while he ate, and went back to her cooking.

Hades watched her cover a hot tray of baklava with the fresh honey syrup. “Where did you learn to cook like this?” he asked, scraping his spoon along the bottom of the bowl.

She set the pot on an iron trivet. “Trial and error, mostly,” she replied. “I grew up cooking for my brother.”

“Older brother? Younger?”

“We're twins.”

He hummed to acknowledge her, and scraped the last bite out of the bowl. “If you feed him like this, he must be a giant of a man.”

Nila smirked. She could take that as a compliment. “Not really,” she corrected. “He has a very slight build, like me. But it fuels him well for duty, I suppose.”

“Duty?” Hades asked. “Is he in my army?”

She chuckled and opened the oven a crack, allowing the smell of roast lamb to waft into the kitchen. “My brother is General Orion.”

He wasn't expecting that. He fixed his eyes on her. “You're kidding.”

“No, sir.”

There was a long pause. She turned and saw him staring into the empty bowl. “That would make you Nila.”

“It would indeed!”

He gestured at the bowl. “Wait, wait, wait. You're the sister of one of my highest generals, and you're a _cook_?”

Nila held up a reprimanding finger. “Head cook, my lord.”

“Still!” The rise in his voice had made his tone more lyrical. “By rights alone, you should have a villa or a manse. You shouldn't have to live in the servants' quarters!”

“Who said I did?” Nila asked. Hades' eyes widened at the direct correction. “I have a modest dwelling outside the castle grounds, my lord. But cooking is one of my passions, and I'm blessed to be pretty good at it.”

“I see. You don't cook for a living; you do it because it's something you enjoy.”

“Pretty much.” She opened the tap and began filling the basin with hot water.

Hades tilted the bowl with the tip of one finger. “I should raise your pay.”

“You should eat more, is what you should do,” Nila grumbled, not too harshly. “You're stick-thin.” After realizing how sick he was of being treated like royalty, it seemed a somewhat safer gamble to treat him like she would anyone else in her care. She sighed. “No, my lord, I'm nobody's lady. I wouldn't know what to do with money or status if you gave them to me.”

Hades laughed under his breath. “You sound like you could be someone's mother.”

Nila smirked. “I guess I could be. I play one for my brother and his friends often enough.” She started putting her dirty pots and pans into the basin to let them soak under the hot water. “Why? Was your mother like that?”

“Oh, no, Rhea was never so doting. Except for Zeus, and it shows.” He tilted his head to one side. “Does that mean you know General Kata?”

She nodded and made a noise of affirmation in her throat. “Known him a few years, now.”

“And what is your opinion of him?”

Nila looked up at him, surprised he would ask her instead of any of his advisors. She thought about being respectful and deferring to his divine judgement. He _was_ Judgement himself! He should know best! But she knew in her heart that he had asked for a reason. “He's a pain in the ass,” she answered. “He's always dirty, and I always have to clean up after him and Orion. He pokes fun at me, and steals cookies from the batches I make for the staff.” She smirked. “He might as well be another brother.”

Hades hummed.

Nila drew back into herself, raising her shoulders around her ears, suddenly second-guessing her choices of words. As easygoing as she was around Orion or Kata, this was a _god_ she was talking to. They were known to be a lot more fickle and easily offended than the average soul. Maybe she should've kept her opinion to herself after all. “W-what is it, my lord?”

“Honestly, I was expecting a harsher criticism.”

She glanced at him. “Really?”

He nodded. “Hiring him on was a gamble, so I told myself that if I ever met someone who knew him outside of his office, I'd ask their opinion.”

“Any... Any particular reason, my lord?”

He met her gaze and held it for a moment before answering. “He was an outsider. An Oceanid.”

Nila thought about this for a moment. Kata's clammy hands, the constant smell of saltwater on his armor, even the odd color of his eyes to contrast his dark skin. And when it hit her, her mouth dropped open. “Oh my stars! He's an _Atlantean_!”

“Yes, he is.”

Nila touched a hand to her head. “Why did I not see that before? It was so obvious!”

Hades chuckled. “You can't un-see it now.”

She covered her face. “Oh my gosh, that's embarrassing! How could I not have known that?”

The king folded his arms and rested his weight on the table. “Well, to be fair, you didn't meet him right when he came up out of the Acheron. I was surprised he got as close to us as he did. Even Orion could barely restrain him.”

“What made you employ him, then?”

Hades sighed and rolled his eyes. “In very short, it wasn't my call.”

Nila made a face. “How is _anything_ Down here not your call?”

He gave her a knowing look; one that said it had something to do with a woman's will.

“Oh.” She pursed her lips in a tight smile and nodded understandingly.

He made an affirmative noise. “He came up out of the water at us and begged me there and then to let him protect Hedate. And my daughter decided she wanted him.”

“You're going to spoil that child,” Nila warned. She pulled a pot from the basin and began scrubbing.

Hades raised his hands in defeat. “I _have_ spoiled her. Even worse, she has Ares' temperament.”

“I don't envy you.”

He harrumphed. “Thanks for your candor.”

“I'm surprised you haven't smitten me for it yet.”

That made him smile. “I'm not Zeus. I don't just hurt people for the fun of it.”

“Hard to tell, my lord, when you don't allow people to _know_ you.”

Hades propped an elbow on the table and wagged a finger at her. “I should come down here more often. I need people like you to talk to.”

“Me?” she asked. She glanced at him over her shoulder. “What makes me so special?”

He dipped his index finger into the empty bowl and ran the tip along the bottom. “You're not automatically infatuated by celebrities.” He stuck the finger into his mouth.

“Hey.” He looked up at her, and she jerked her head at a wrapped basket on the next counter. “There's pita in that basket.”

“Oh, thank you.” He reached under a towel and pulled out a piece of warm bread.

Nila chuckled. “Are you sure you don't want more?”

Hades shook his head. “I need to actually eat something at dinner. Pers will be worried if I don't.”

“Thirty guests for Lady Persephone's homecoming?” Nila asked. “Sounds like too large a crowd, if I know her.”

He hummed and nodded. “She hates it. And she knows I hate it too.”

“Was that another of Lady Hedate's ideas, then?”

“Partially.” He took a bite of the soft pita bread and hummed appreciatively. “She has her friends, and of course she wants Kata and Orion there.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head tiredly. “She's got her eye on him, and Creation knows, there's nothing I can do to stop her.”

Nila cocked one eyebrow and shook her head. “I wouldn't know anything about that, my lord. Kata keeps his affections pretty quiet, and he's not exactly my type.”

He laughed under his breath.

“If you wanted to reduce the number of guests, though, you could always have the wonder twins stand guard at the door.”

Hades looked up at her, as if he hadn't considered that thought before. “Really?”

“Neither of them would refuse.”

“True.”

“And you could always send them to me afterward. I'll be up, and I'll have something cooked for them when they get off duty.”

“You'd do that?”

She gave him a knowing look. “I do this all the time, my lord.” She set a newly clean pot in an adjacent basin to rinse. “But you said it was only partially Lady Hedate's idea.”

“Yes, I did,” he said a little dryly. He sighed while he finished his last bite of pita. “Polaris is coming, Hecate and her girls will be early as usual, and then Hermes is bringing Hephaestus.”

“Sounds like an odd bunch,” Nila mused. “Lady Hecate I halfway understand, but... A Judge, the Messenger, and the Blacksmith.”

Hades sighed again. “We're trying to understand Tartarus' gate. The Phlegethon flows through it, so the entire area should be unbearably hot. I mean, it's where most of the city gets its hot water.”

“But... it's cold?” Nila guessed.

He nodded. “Yes. And the temperature change could affect the gate's durability.”

Nila nodded. That was a legitimate concern to involve Hephaestus. “So what does His Honor have to do with that?”

“Honestly, I'm not sure what could cause a temperature change that drastic,” Hades replied, folding his arms on the table again. “Except... maybe...”

She finished his thought for him. “A demon.”

He looked up at her. Her bright green eyes were filled with worry and horror. Hades thought about it, and then shook his head slowly. “It would have to be more than one. Or... Or it would have to be _the one._” He watched Nila lean heavily into the sink basin, saw her brown-dappled wings tremble in sudden panic. “Nila?”

The cook took a deep breath and steadied herself against the sink. “I'm fine, my lord. Just give me a... give me...” She wiped her hand along her brow.

Hades stood up. “Nila, are you all right?”

“I'm fine, Lord Hades.”

He crossed the distance to her in two long, easy strides, and touched her arm. As intense as his personality was, being Lord of the Dead had certain perks. Nila sighed as a warm, heavy peacefulness draped over her shoulders like a blanket. “I'm sorry to have worried you,” he said softly. “It was not my place to have involved you in this.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. “I'm sorry. I think I froze up a little, there.”

He smirked. “They're panic attacks. I have them, myself.” He gently rubbed her shoulder. “Let me handle my own affairs. There's no need to carry the world. You're not Atlas.”

Nila allowed herself a grin at the reference. “No, I'm definitely not.”

He patted her arm once and backed away. “I rely on Polaris for his clarity. He may not always tell me what I want to hear, but if anyone can shed a light on what's really going on, it's him. He is just in a way that sometimes even I can't be.”

It seemed odd to Nila that Hades ever had trouble being just and even-tempered. “Do you like him?”

Hades leaned back, into the table. “That's irrelevant. He is who I need him to be.” Then he bobbed his head. “But... he and I don't always get along. His dominating trait requires him to be abrasive and tactless.”

“More so than you?” she asked.

Hades lowered his chin at her and gave her a glare.

She caught it when she looked over her shoulder at him again, and automatically had a retort. “Hey, you happen to have a reputation. You _both_ do.”

He harrumphed and folded his arms. “Yes, I'm a prick and he's an asshole.”

Nila gave him a shocked look at his choice of words, but when the moment passed, she allowed herself a smirk. “And I see you're doing nothing to convince me otherwise.”

“Why should I?” Hades asked. “After our conversation, it's clear that you don't mind me being how I am.”

“It's not my place to say how you should or shouldn't be,” Nila declared. “You treat me fairly, and you run the Underworld just fine, in my humble opinion, and that's all I care about.”

He harrumphed. “Nice to know _someone _approves of how I do things.”

“I'm sure you catch enough flack from the folks up those stairs. The least I can do is give you a break from it all.”

Hades considered this for a long moment. “That is very kind of you,” he said quietly.

Nila glanced at him over her shoulder. Then she pushed the tap over the rinsing basin and pulled the lever to resume the flow of hot water. She sighed, dried her hands on her apron, and stepped away from the sink to stand before the king. She propped her hands on her hips. “So?” she asked. “What do you want to do?”

He blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “Do you want to just stay down here with me?”

He smirked and shook his head, making his dark waves shift over his forehead. “I couldn't.” He sighed deeply. “I've got work to do. And anyway, what would they think if they knew I was hiding down here?”

“Since when have you cared what they think?” Nila asked.

Hades rolled his eyes. “Since I became _king_, Nila. I have to take responsibility for these people at some point.”

She made a careless sound and shrugged her shoulders. “Oh well. Then if you need to _hide_ again, you just come find me.”

He seemed startled at the offer. “You don't mind?”

Nila looked at the space between her feet and clenched her lower lip between her teeth. “Do you know why I keep that lantern lit in the cellar?” she asked. “Why shouldn't I blow it out? Why shouldn't I bring it out with me, and save oil and wick?”

His startled look softened into sympathy.

“I was locked in there for three hours while dinner was going on. I screamed until my voice was gone, and nobody heard me.” She shifted her weight. “Kata found me after his shift was over. I was all bloodied from clawing at the door, bruised from tripping over things.” She shook her head. “So ever since, if I couldn't keep the door propped open, I can at least keep the lamp lit.” She dropped her hands to her sides. “No one wants to be afraid or helpless, my lord. So if there's something I can do, in my limited capacity, to help you feel less afraid, then I'll do it.”

Perhaps that was when Hades started to realize that Nila was something special. She wasn't speaking out of blind loyalty, he was sure. No, she had prefaced her declaration with a story to evoke sympathy. All of her goodness was simply for goodness' sake.

Hades folded his hands before him, knitting his fingers to keep himself from doing something stupid like throwing his arms around her. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“Just doing my job, your Majesty.”

He shook his head. “This is above and beyond the terms of your job, Nila.” After some thought, he gently reached out and took one of her hands. “I'll try to find some way to repay you for your kindness.”

Nila smirked. “How about you come back down here once in a while? I wouldn't mind the company.”

The corner of his mouth drew up to match her expression. “I think I could arrange that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Having wings is not unusual in the Underworld. In fact about 50% of the population has them! Neither Hades nor his siblings have wings.
> 
> *Atlas is the name of the Titan who was tasked with holding up the earth.
> 
> * The Acheron is one of five rivers in the Underworld; it splits into four somewhere just below the Surface, and there joins the Lethe, the Styx, and the Phlegethon. The Cocytus runs parallel, never meeting any of the waters of the Acheron.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family introductions. What could go wrong?

Hades was right, and Hecate arrived early, in the company of her Furies. That was surely a misnomer, he thought as the gossiping bunch of girls followed their matron up the grand staircase to the bleak gray castle. He allowed himself a sigh. And so it begins.

Hades was the tallest of his siblings, but apparently a few of the other Titans got the height gene as well, and had passed it on to his cousin, Hecate. She was only shorter than him by a hand's length, taller even than his oldest sister, Hestia. She had her blonde hair pinned up, and she wore a flowing purple robe, surely something new she had picked up in her worldly travels.

She smiled at him as she crossed the great Seal at the top of the stairs. “Hades.”

He smirked at her. “It's good to see you, Hecate.” He bent and embraced her, and kissed her cheek.

“Don't say that too quickly,” she sighed, returning the chaste kiss. “This particular dinner could go wrong in _so _many different ways.”

Hades rolled his eyes. “Personally, I fail to see how it could go _right_.”

She patted his arm. “Well, I'll see if I can't help moderate the damage.”

A smaller, more robust figure angled herself out from behind Hecate, and Hades turned his eyes down at Hedate.

The young nymph was a curious mix of the gene pool, a soul cobbled together for an ancient prophecy from the power of four different gods; of which he and Hecate were two. She had his soft, wavy brown hair and wicked grin, Aphrodite's gleaming brown eyes and supple figure, Ares' argumentative wit, and Hecate's willful defiance and outrageous power. A problem child, and a problem he would be willing to shoulder every day of his life, if she would but let him.

Hedate gave him a mischievous smirk, and Hades spread his arms. “Come here, pumpkin.” The girl giggled and threw her arms around her father's neck, and he picked her up and squeezed her. “Oh, you were gone too long again.”

She pushed away from him to look him in the eye. “That's hardly my fault, father,” she whined. “You never come to the surface.”

He chuckled. “You know I don't have any business up there.”

“Not _yet_,” Hecate mumbled.

Hades cut his eyes at her. “Hey, none of that. If I can help it, I'd like to stay _out_ of that particular mess. I've got enough to deal with down here. I'll leave the upper world to the Olympians.” He sneered as he said the word.

“You_ are_ an Olympian, cousin,” Hecate corrected flatly.

Hades groaned and set Hedate down. “Ugh. Don't remind me.” He looked at their daughter and forced a smile. “Tonight's probably going to be a bit harder on me than usual, darling. Do you think you can possibly hold off on any fights with your brother?”

Hedate gave him a pout. “Not if he's coming to dinner! He always makes fun of me.”

“Bacchus makes fun of _everyone_, Hedate, me included.”

The girl paused to consider this for a moment. “Is Melinoë coming?” she finally asked, as if seeing her older half-sister might make the visit more bearable.

“I don't think so,” Hades said sadly. “I think she had to keep an appointment with Hypnos.”

Hedate shuddered. “At least she's not bringing _him_ to dinner.”

The taller goddess gave her daughter a tired glare. “Hedate, behave.”

“But mother, he's _weird_!”

Hades and Hecate looked at each other. “I guess neither of us can argue with that.”

Their daughter folded her arms over her ample chest and allowed herself a private little smile. “I'd rather have Thanatos any day.”

Hades nodded tiredly, as if he realized she meant more than having the reaper over for dinner. “Yes, I know you would.” More than once he caught himself regretting putting his energy in with Aphrodite's. Their progeny was a gossip, a tease, and worse, she had Ares' insatiable appetite. It made him wonder briefly what she saw in General Kata. He put his hand on the girl's shoulder and guided her and her mother into the castle, trying to leave that gruesome thought at the doorstep. “Just be nice to Persephone when she gets here. I won't tolerate rudeness.”

Hedate's eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth in dismay. “Father! You know I adore Persephone! I would never-”

Hades stopped her with a knowing smile.

The girl's retort fell flat. “All right,” she conceded.

“Very good.” The door opened again, and Hades looked up at the winged figure who entered. He was almost as tall as Hades, and with his narrow, discerning eyes, he was at least as intimidating.

Hades glanced at Hecate. “Will you wait in the dining hall, please?” he asked, gently directing their daughter in her direction. “I won't be long, I promise.”

Hecate steered the small crowd away, toward the dining room, and Hades drew himself up to his full height, steeling himself for confrontation with his fellow judge. Height was really all he had on Polaris; his new guest was blonde, his eyes two shades a darker blue, and he was more barrel-chested and muscular than Hades. He wore dark blue robes over a matching tunic, and waited patiently for the king's welcome before he entered.

The two men stared at each other across the great Seal for a moment, and Hades was reminded of why exactly he didn't much care for Polaris; the man would tolerate niceties, and could be very polite, but he could see through any sort of falsehood, and Polaris would not hesitate to call Hades out for acting on his ego. Not for the pleasure of embarrassing the king, and this Hades knew, but in the end that never seemed to bring the two of them any closer to being friends.

So it was with a sort of quiet defeat that Hades finally waved Polaris into the castle. “Polaris,” he said softly. “Please come in.”

The judge bowed politely and began the few steps across the great Seal. “Thank you for having me, your Majesty.”

They reached out to each other and clasped each other's hands in greeting. “Thank you for coming.”

“I know you wouldn't call me if it weren't important,” Polaris acknowledged.

“I'm sorry it couldn't be under friendlier circumstances.”

This made Polaris smile. The expression was genuine, and made his eyes glitter. “Lord Hades, you misread my intentions.” He patted the back of Hades' hand. “Our relationship is merely how it needs to be. If perchance one day we are friends, I don't want to regret having ever steered you wrong.”

This managed to comfort the king somewhat. In fact, he knew very little about the soul assigned to be his fellow judge. Age usually wasn't a factor when determining job-competency, but if Hades had to guess, he might've said that Polaris was older than him. He was almost certainly an outsider, like General Kata, and just like him, Polaris had procured a place of status for his innate abilities. And, thank the Stars, Polaris was nothing if not loyal.

The moment was interrupted by a snarky, higher-pitched voice. “Well, well! What have we here?” The two elders glanced down at a smaller blonde version of Hades. “The prick and the asshole! What a cute couple you make! Get a room!” He pressed his lips together in a tight smile.

Hades moaned and rubbed the crease the boy had put in his forehead. “Bacchus, could your timing be _any_ more inappropriate?” He looked up at Polaris. “I must apologize; my son apparently hasn't learned tact.”

Polaris leaned in close to whisper. “He takes after his father. Mind if I handle this?”

“Be my guest.”

The judge grinned and took a step back to look at the younger god. His face softened, and he pressed a hand to his chest. “How kind of you to notice!” he said, his voice sweet. “We really do make quite the pair, don't we?” He glanced at Hades. “I wonder, if we combined our powers, maybe we could create a better version of you!”

Bacchus looked from Polaris to Hades, and then back. Then he grinned. “I like him!”

Hades rolled his eyes. “Great.” He sighed and looked at his son. “Will you please show Judge Polaris to the dining hall?”

“Sure.”

Bacchus' arrival meant one thing for sure; his mother wasn't far behind. Hades swept out, across the great Seal, and down the left wing of the grand staircase. And, sure enough, out of the caverns to the upper world came a tiny figure, wrapped in gauzy pink robes.

Persephone was smaller and fuller-bodied than both their children, with freckles on her rosy cheeks, and red ringlets that cascaded over her back and shoulders. She smiled when she saw Hades, blue eyes glittering.

Hades skidded to his knees, and Persephone squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her soft figure into the bones of his ribcage. Hades tangled his fingers in her hair. She smelled like sunshine and fresh grass, and her warmth against him was reassuring in a way he hadn't realized he had missed.

They held each other for a long time before either dared draw away, and when they did, it was only a few inches.

“That bad, huh?” Not for the first time, they had both said the phrase at the exact same time.

“Sorry I'm late,” she murmured. “I had to drop Melinoë off with Hypnos.” She looked at his black robes and pushed him playfully. “You never hug me like that. It must have been bad.”

Hades harrumphed. “Never is a strong word.” She narrowed one eye at him, and he amended his statement. “But yeah, it was pretty bad.”

“Since when has being alone bothered you?” she asked. She traced her fingers around the crest of his ear. “You _hate_ people.” She wasn't wrong. Most people on the surface were terrified of Hades, and those who weren't had little interest in associating with him. It made sense that he might want nothing more than to be left to his own devices.

Hades reached up and stroked her soft pink cheeks, sheepishly studying her freckles instead of looking in her eyes. “I suppose I missed the one person who actually understands me.”

Persephone smiled. “Lucky me.” She set her forehead against his, and then sighed. “It's good to be home.” It was something she said every year, a script the two of them went through for comfort's sake, to remind each other of roles that might've been forgotten in the nine months they spent apart.

“I love how you still think of _this place_ as your home.”

She drew away and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, you know Mom. She has a tendency to make the atmosphere really tense sometimes.”

“Oh, trust me, I know.” He released her and stood up. “And on that note, we've got some catching up to do.”

“Not before dinner, I suppose,” Persephone said, taking his hand. “That might be too good to be true.”

Hades sighed. “I'm afraid you're right. Business before pleasure.”

“You really think there's something wrong?”

“I'd rather be safe than sorry. Whatever the case, we needed to get Hephaestus down here for maintenance anyway.”

The tiny goddess shuddered. “That's a really scary thought, though.”

“I know.” Hades smirked. “Don't worry. They'll have to come through me first.”

Persephone rolled her eyes. “That's part of what worries me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * One of Hades' many names is "Aidoneus," which means "Zeus of the Underworld." That being said, it's commonly assumed that Bacchus/ Dionysus is Zeus' son. He is in fact Hades' and Persephone's first child.  
* The gods have multiple ways of producing an heir. One is through intercourse, but the other common way is through a technique called theogony, by which a deity can reproduce on their own or with partner(s). It's more like a "group project" than anything remotely intimate, but the parents can definitely form paternal/ maternal attachments to the product of such an occurrence. {I mean, seriously, Hades can barely handle one other person in the room with him. An orgy is out of the question.}


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How dinner went.

Hades enjoyed that meal for a slightly different reason than he had enjoyed the many he had eaten before that. It meant something extraordinarily important for him to have met and judged the character of the soul who had created this dinner for him. And his verdict remained true; Nila was something special, though just what she was he wasn't exactly sure. If tasting a feeling were possible, he would have said that he could taste her passion in the lamb, focus in the spanakopita, and comfort in the baklava. But for some reason, he didn't taste that particular thing he had sensed in her simple lamb stew earlier that afternoon.

He was lost in thought over it when Persephone gently elbowed him. He glanced at her, and she jerked her head at Judge Polaris.

Hades shook the fog out of his vision. “I'm sorry, Polaris, I was lost in thought. Could you repeat that?”

Polaris blinked at him, and graciously repeated his question. “If, Stars forbid, there is something behind the recent temperature drop, what would you have me do about it?”

Hades folded his hands on the table and sighed. “Truth be told, I have no idea.” He sat back in his chair at the head of the table. “I know more about the immortal soul than any of the other gods, but demons are on the very fringe of my education.”

Polaris raised his eyebrows at this information. “Are you saying that the Lord of the Underworld knows nothing about what lies behind Tartarus' gates?”

Hades shrugged. “I know the structure of it, and the placement for each transgression, but I've never experienced it, myself, or met any of its residents.”

Polaris sighed. “Then you have been fortunate.” He tapped his fingers on the table while he thought. “Near as I can tell, none of the gods can see a demon once it has possessed a soul or a body. Most everyone Down here can sense their presences to some degree, which is part of why no one goes near the gate; the feeling is too strong.” He sighed and rubbed his fingers in his short, neat facial hair.

“Feeling?” Persephone asked. “What kind of feeling?”

Polaris turned his gaze to the queen. “Demons darken the colors present in one's soul. Passion becomes rage, peacefulness becomes depression, excitement becomes anxiety. And if one finds a weak point in a soul, it can enter and wreak havoc on decision-making skills, driving a soul off its preordained path.”

“And can anyone be so corrupted?” Persephone asked.

“Not anyone, no, but there are very few who are absolutely incorruptible. You might take Veritas as an example.”

Hades nodded. “I can see where that would make sense. And, as to the reason I called you here tonight; I think you might be one of those incorruptible souls.”

Polaris reflected on this for a moment. “I'm honored that you might think so.”

A small, bony figure from the other end of the table spoke up. “You mean to tell me,” said the slender messenger, “that you are not incorruptible.” Hermes was a good deal younger than Polaris and Hades, with sandy blonde hair and the family's characteristic blue eyes, and a pair of small, neat wings that no one knew where he got.

Hades and Bacchus shared a glance and chuckled at each other. “Why do you think I stopped drinking?”

Hermes threw up his hands. “If you're talking about your son, that was a thousand years ago!”

“So?” Hades gestured at the stocky, bearded figure next to Hermes. “Let those who can hold their alcohol have it.”

Hephaestus, his mouth full, lifted his glass in gratitude.

“See?” Hades asked. “He can have my glass. It impairs my judgement.”

“That's an understatement,” Persephone mumbled.

“Percy.” Hades elbowed his wife gently.

Hermes waved his hands helplessly, and then pressed both palms to his face in exasperation. “You're taking this too lightly, Uncle.” He looked up at Hades again. “What would happen in the event of a breach, then?” he asked. “What if you were to be possessed?”

“That is a problem,” Hades admitted. “We don't have an evacuation plan, per se, because the Underworld is the place to which most souls evacuate.” He sighed. “I'll see if I can't draw up some plans. Maybe Hestia will have some ideas.” He flicked his eyes up at Hermes. “But in the event that I am possessed...” He shook his head. “I don't have an answer.” He glanced at Polaris. “With my kind of luck, I would need Polaris to smite me.”

“Or Veritas,” Hephaestus mumbled from down the table. “Since nobody else seems to have that kind of clarity.” He speared another bite of lamb and stuck it in his mouth.

Bacchus turned his attention to the Blacksmith. “I had no clue you were even listening.”

“I'm not as stupid as I look.” He propped his forearms on the table and hummed. “This is delicious. How is it that you have a better cook Down here than in Olympus?”

Hades shook a finger at Hephaestus. “Don't let Hera hear you say that. I don't want to have to hire another cook because she got jealous.”  
Polaris spread his hands. “So, what would you have me do?” he asked.

Hades leaned forward, carefully considering his idea before he expressed it. “How many souls would you say you send to Tartarus, out of every hundred?” he asked.

The judge thought about it. “About fifty percent. For various crimes, of course.”

“Of course. And how many ever return?”

He shook his head. “I've never heard of any who return.”

“And what would you say if I were to tell you Tartarus is not an endless void? That it is capable of being filled up?”

Polaris stroked his chin seriously and sighed. “Then I would say we're in trouble.”

Hades nodded. “What I want to find out from you, somehow, is if there are any human souls coming into the Underworld with demonic influences.”

Polaris looked startled. “I appreciate your faith in me, but given what we know about demonic possession, that's... nearly impossible.”

Hades held up a finger. “Nearly. But my faith in you is not unfounded. Your clarity affords you an ability I don't think you've recognized yet; the ability to draw someone out from under that influence. Have you noticed that, during any of your trials?”

He thought about it for a moment before nodding. “I had, but I couldn't tell where it was coming from.”

Hades tapped a finger on the table and thought for a moment. “Let me guess,” he said thoughtfully, “you've had to use your power on a few of Melinoë's lost souls.”

Polaris shrugged. “I wasn't aware I was using it. I just get frustrated at the nonsense and... It just happens.” The entire table went silent with the knowledge that Polaris had never been trained to use his power. The judge rubbed his forehead, embarrassed at being put on the spot. “Well, I'm sorry! She's the matron of Madness. What did you expect?”

Hades raised a hand to calm him. “I expected nothing less from you. You provide souls in distress with a moment of clarity with which to reflect on their actions. It's perfectly justified. All I'm asking you to do, during each of those moments, is to try to determine how many of them were under demonic influence.”

Polaris gave him a dry look. “With due respect, my lord, most every soul would claim demonic influence if it meant they could get away with something.”

“I'm not saying you should change your verdicts. One thing I do know is that souls are perfectly capable of resisting temptation. They still need to be held accountable. I just want you to find out, so that we can keep a tally of potential threats.”

The judge nodded. “I might be able to do that, then. So long as it doesn't compromise due process.”

“It shouldn't.”

“Very well, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *You may have noticed I use Greek and Roman names interchangeably. This is based on the gods' personal preferences. Hades only ever called Bacchus by his Greek name when he was in trouble.
> 
> * Hades is the first of three boys, but he has three older sisters, of whom Hestia, goddess of the hearth, is the oldest. Hestia is followed by Demeter (Persephone's mother and goddess of the harvest), and then Hera (Queen of Olympus and goddess of women, motherhood, and femininity).
> 
> *Veritas/ Aletheia is the goddess of truth, often depicted as naked, but still oddly very difficult to see.
> 
> *Tartarus, in this context, is the ancient Greek equivalent of Hell, and is structured in Nine concentric layers, with the eighth circle (Malebolge) having several inner circles.
> 
> *Melinoë is Hades' and Persephone's second child through theogony. She is normally considered a nymph, but is also referred to as Madness Incarnate. She rarely attends functions, and is more frequently involved with those more closely associated with death and grief (i.e., Thanatos, Hypnos, Eris, Apate, Geras, and the other offspring of Nyx and Erebus).


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A private conversation, where old wounds come to light.

“Well, that didn't go so badly,” Persephone sighed.

Hades shut the door to their massive bedroom and hummed. “Well, I didn't punch anyone, so...”

Persephone snickered and plopped herself down on a bench on their balcony. “Yeah, Dad is still mad about that black eye you gave him.”

Hades cocked his head tiredly. “Percy, that was seven hundred years ago.”

She shrugged. “I still thought it was funny.”

Hades watched her for a moment, and finally let a smile cross his face. “Zeus deserved it.”

Persephone grinned. “He absolutely deserved it.” She picked up a decanter and poured herself a glass of wine. “I'm surprised nobody has called Nemesis on him yet.”

Hades took the room in seven long, easy strides. “He would deserve that too. She's got her plate full, though, and I'm not sure any one of us could offer her enough to deal with that ordeal.” He shook his head at the magnitude of his youngest brother's screw-ups and propped his elbows on the alabaster balcony rail.

Persephone looked up from her glass. “Do you want one?”

Hades glanced at her. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

She shrugged. “It's been a few hundred years. I figured you could let loose a little.”

“You're baiting me, and it's not nice,” Hades warned. He reached down and ruffled her fluffy red head. “Sweetie, you know I love you, but I'd rather not have another Bacchus.”

The goddess of spring harrumphed, shrugged, and took a sip from the cup he had refused. “I think it's funny as Hell that I can remember that night and you can't.”

“That's just embarrassing.”

She grinned over the rim of her cup. “You were so far gone.”

“Percy.” She giggled at him, and he let himself smile. “No, darling, none of my offspring have really turned out with what I would call 'success'.” He sighed. “Neither a natural pregnancy nor old-fashioned theogony have really turned out in my favor.”

“What about Hedate?” Persephone asked. “She's got you wrapped around her little finger.”

He nodded. “And I keep wondering if she's more trouble than she's worth. Raising her was the closest thing to Hell I've ever experienced. She's flighty, easily offended... She's already trying to bed one of my generals! And that's _if_ she hasn't succeeded already, the little tart.”

The small goddess hummed. “Sounds like she takes after you just as much as Aphrodite.” She set her glass down. “And speaking of which, how is Minthe? Are you two still on good terms?”

“No.” He frowned and twisted his mouth at her. “And that was almost a thousand years ago.”

Persephone's face fell. “Really?” She set her glass down, and stood up to join him at the balcony. “You never told me.”

He smirked at her, but the expression seemed forlorn. “We've had a few too many busy years to really get into it.” He sighed. Reliving those dark years was hard. “It was good for a while, or... you know, I guess I just _thought _it was good. I know you met her at least once. I didn't think you liked her.”

She shrugged. “I didn't think anything about her, really. But I thought she made you happy.” She ran her fingers over his forearm.

Hades harrumphed. “I think I realized way too late that she and I were looking for different things in a relationship.” He laid his hand over hers. “She wanted to date a celebrity, and I...” He sighed. “I don't know what I was thinking. I don't know what I wanted out of her. Maybe I just thought she might just like me for who I am.” He ran his fingers into his hair and laughed humorlessly under his breath. “So I let her do it. I let her get away with it, because I was lonely, and I thought there might not be anyone else.” He couldn't lift his head. He didn't want to see her reaction.

“What happened?”

He slowly knitted his fingers with hers. “We got into a fight. Verbal, you know.” His wife nodded, and he went on. “She wanted me to divorce you, and of course I refused. She doesn't know what's at stake. She couldn't understand what Demeter did or why we got married in the first place. Then she snapped at me that she would make a better queen than you, and I told her to get out.” His voice cracked, and he had to stop for a moment. “We haven't spoken since.”

There was a long pause between them, and Persephone wound her arms into the crook of his elbow. “I'm sorry,” she murmured.

Hades sighed and rubbed her arm. “Maybe I deserve this. My bed is empty three quarters of the year, and for some reason I can't find someone who doesn't want anything from me but _me_.” He gave her a sad smile. “Not even you.”

She turned her gaze down at his hands. “I couldn't give you what you really needed.”

“I know. And I'm sure the reverse is true, as well.”

She leaned her head into his shoulder. “I'm here for you, you know that, right?”

Hades pulled free of her grip and wound his lanky arm over her shoulders. “That's a pretty good consolation, at least.”

They held each other there on the balcony, looking out over the city for a moment before it occurred to Persephone the particular nuances of what her husband had said. “So, wait,” she said. “You haven't had sex in how long?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“Since Bacchus?”

Hades sighed. “Percy...”

“Not even a cuddle?”

“_Percy_...”

She looked stricken. “Hades, you know how I feel about cuddles.”

“Percy, you don't have to-”

She shushed him. “Want me to stay here tonight?” she asked.

He glanced at her. “Only if it wouldn't be too weird for you.”

“Oh for Stars' sakes, you're not too weird to cuddle with.” She jabbed him with the tip of her finger. “You kind of push the limit sometimes, though.”

He squeezed her shoulder gently. “You'll cuddle with anyone.”

“You're mistaking me for Athena,” she grumbled. “There's a line I draw.”

“And where's that?”

She hummed. “Charon, I think. He works all the time, so you'd think he bathes once in a while, but every time I see him he's covered in dirt!”

Hades laughed at the thought. “Probably from all the souls he has to forcibly drag into his boat.”

“That's even more reason for me to draw my line there.” She shuddered. “Ugh!”

It took Hades a moment to quell his laughter, and when he finally did, he remembered the thing he had actually wanted to tell her. “You'd have been proud of me; I made a friend today.”

She lifted her bright eyes to him. “No way! You? Make friends?”

“Yes.”

Persephone inhaled a gasp of excitement. “That's great, Hades!” Then she stopped herself. “Wait, was this one of those happenstance things?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Because I _know_ you wouldn't just approach someone and introduce yourself.”

Hades rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes. Still. She's very nice...”

“A _woman_?” Persephone cut him off with a squeal. “What progress you're making! So? Who is she?”

“She's our head cook. Orion's twin sister.”

Persephone's smile became conspiratorial. “Is she pretty?”

It surprised Hades to realize he hadn't actually noticed. So he had to think about it for a moment.

“Don't tell me you didn't notice,” Persephone groaned. “Hades, _again_?”

“What do you mean, 'again'?” he asked. “You know looks aren't the first thing I notice.” He glanced down at her, but her only response was a dry, knowing look. He sighed. “All right, you got me. I was hiding from those _vultures_ again, and she chased them off for me.”

“That sounds more like you.” She nudged him. “So? _Is_ she pretty?”

Hades thought about it. “She's actually rather plain. She's a brunette with green eyes, she's taller than you...”

“Sweetie, everyone's taller than me.”

Hades smirked and went on. “For a cook, she's slim, like Orion. She has his dappled wings, too. She loves her job, and...” He stopped suddenly.

Persephone noticed. “Hades? What is it?”

He shook his head slightly. “I don't think I've ever met anyone so kind.” He smiled. “She held my hand, gave me food, worried for my sake even though she doesn't know me...” He turned his eyes down at the balcony rail. “Everything she said and did during my interaction with her was reassuring, somehow.” He looked down at Persephone. “The woman could probably even comfort Oizys!”

Persephone's eyes widened. “Now _that_ is high praise!” She smiled broadly. “So, what do you think? Do you like her?”

“Percy, I only met her a few hours ago. Don't you think it's a little too soon to tell?”

“Well, fine then!” she retorted. “Let me rephrase: will you see her again?”

Hades smiled at her. “You know... I think I will.”

“Just don't, you know, _kidnap _her.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don't worry, I won't make that mistake.” He cut his eyes at her. “Damn, you've become a smart ass.”

“Where do you think I get it from?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Charon is the ferryman who carries souls (shades) across the river Styx. He is one of Nyx and Erebus' children.
> 
> *Athena is the goddess of strategy, who we will likely meet later. According to Persephone, she is bisexual, and loves snuggles.
> 
> *Oizys is the lesser-known goddess of suffering, and is known to be sweet, but very emotional. Think of her as the mother of all empaths. Cries at the drop of a hat.
> 
> *Nemesis is the goddess of divine retribution, daughter of Nyx.
> 
> *Minthe was a chthonian nymph from whom we derive the word for the mint plant.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nila feeds the generals

The servant's door slammed open, and Nila turned around to the sound of boisterous voices entering the kitchen from the outside. Two figures darkened her door at this late hour, and the cook sighed and shook her head. “Take off your armor!” she yelled across the kitchen. “I just cleaned this place up!”

The first figure folded his wings against his back and wedged himself through the door sideways. He was dark-skinned and slender, with full lips and strange aquamarine eyes. He smirked defiantly at Nila and stepped out of the way so that the second armored soul could fit through the door behind him. The first pulled off his helmet, revealing a head full of kinky black curls. “Oh, Nila, you should have been at the dinner! You'll never guess who was there!” He placed the helmet on a shelf by the door.

She glanced over her shoulder at Kata. “Bet you I can. You've got that look on your face.”

He smirked and began loosening the straps on his breastplate. “Does it show?”

“Yes, lovestruck stupidity at it's best,” Nila said.

The second, slightly taller soldier pulled off his helmet. His hair was straight and brown, like his sister's, and he had brushed it that morning only to have it stick straight up when his helmet came off. “She's definitely got you under her spell,” said Orion. He wiped the sweat off his brow and ran his fingers back into his hair.

“Maybe so,” said Kata, “but if that's true, it's a spell I never want to have broken!” He dropped his armor on the floor and leaned against the wall with a sigh. “She's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen,” he murmured.

Nila harrumphed. “You've clearly never seen Aphrodite.”

Kata cocked his head at her. “Even so, can't I have my preference?” he said.

“Have your preference, but don't compare her to her mother,” Orion warned.

Kata harrumphed. “Killjoys. Both of you are killjoys.” He came into the kitchen and flopped down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “It's not like either of you have romantic interests. I mean, seriously, Nila, what would you do if the object of your desires showed interest in you?”

Nila chuckled. “Well, that's easy. I don't...” She turned around just in time to see Orion sit down in the chair that his Majesty had occupied earlier that day. Finally, she finished her thought. “I don't have one.”

The two men looked at her, and then at each other.

Orion turned his gaze back toward his sister. “What was that?”

“What?” she asked. She set two bowls of the warm lamb stew in front of them.

“That long, suspicious pause,” said Kata.

Nila gave them both a tired look and tossed a spoon at each of them. The indelicate iron utensils clattered across the table. “You had your surprise visitor today, and I had mine.”

“Oh _really_?” Kata asked conspiratorially. He nudged Orion, who chuckled. “And who might that be?” He picked up his spoon and sank it into his stew.

Nila smiled. Neither of them would believe her even if she told them. “Lord Hades.”

Orion burned his tongue and set his spoon down again. Kata froze, stew-laden spoon halfway to his mouth.

Orion regained his composure before Kata did. “Damn it, Nila, that's not funny!”

She snickered. “It is to me.”

Kata finally snapped out of his shock and gave Orion a half-hearted grin. “For a moment I was worried she wasn't joking,” he laughed nervously.

“Yeah, that's for all the jokes you two take one step too far.” She reached one foot under the table and kicked the leg of Kata's chair so that he startled and jerked to maintain his balance. “You forgot to take off your shoes. If you track dirt all over my floor, I'll have both of you scrubbing on hands and knees.”

Orion looked at his fellow general. “Since when are you scared of Hades?”

Kata took a bite of stew and leaned knowingly toward Orion. “I've never _not_ been scared of Hades.”

“What was that on the first day we met, then?” Orion asked, his voice high.

“Stupid chivalry.”

“Chivalry?” Orion repeated.

Kata nodded. “I saw someone I thought deserved to be protected, and I said so.”

“Hedate.”

Kata nodded. “It was entirely without forethought.”

Nila harrumphed. “Stupid chivalry is right, then,” she mumbled. She grinned as she recalled Hades' description of the event.

“What's that grin for?” Kata asked.

She hummed quietly. “I got that story from someone else's perspective today, is all.”

Kata glowered at her. “Hades?” he asked.

Nila made an affirmative noise and turned off the eye under the stew pot. “Orion never told me you were a merman.”

Kata blinked at her. “I thought it was obvious.”

“I don't see any fins or gills,” she said, picking up the pot. “It's not obvious.” She turned and ducked into the pantry and set the pot down in a cool spot. “And anyway, I thought merfolk were supposed to have tails, not wings!”

Kata shook his head. “Not all do. I did, but apparently when we're out of water that translates into wings. You know, an expression of power.” He took another bite. “Triton has two tails, and I know of quite a few sirens that have wings.” He looked up at Nila. “Anyway, I don't know about you two, but I can't fly.”

Nila and Orion looked at each other. “I've never had the urge to try,” Nila admitted.

“I tried once,” said Orion.

“Yeah, and you broke your arm,” Nila reminded him. She set two ceramic cups on the table and poured them each some wine. “Well, at least we're never boring.” She raised the mostly empty flask and held it out to them. “To stupidity. It makes the cosmos go 'round.”

The two men laughed and raised their glasses to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Aphrodite is the goddess of love, wife of Hephaestus, famous (or rather infamous) for her affair with Ares.
> 
> *Sometimes a body can't contain the entire energy of a soul. The result is one or more surplus appendages. For those who breathe air, it's wings. For those who breathe water, it's tails. For demons, it's typically something referred to as a "crown," or perhaps something akin to a halo. A soul can have more than one power extension, though it is rare, even among the gods.
> 
> *Remember, Hedate has four parents: Hades, Hecate, Ares and Aphrodite.
> 
> *Ancient Greek astrology was Earth-centric, and the rest of the universe was simply referred to as the cosmos.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General Kata tastes forbidden fruit

Kata left the kitchens with a full belly and a slight alcoholic buzz. Nila had outdone herself again, and he made sure to thank her by cleaning up after he was done. And true to form, Nila rejected his praise and shooed him away, just like she did every night. Cooking was one thing he was sure Hedate couldn't do. Still, he wound his way around the castle grounds, in no hurry to return to the barracks. He could claim status, like Orion, but he couldn't imagine himself living alone. Orion was lucky to have his sister.

“Kata?”

The general turned at the sound of his name. Hedate stood on her balcony, hands propped on the railing. The darkness folded over her like silk, her supple body wrapped in red cloth that darkened like blood where the night touched her. Stars, she was beautiful. Kata bowed his head. “My Lady. Good evening.”

“Are you on your way home?” she asked.

Kata glanced at his path. “I was,” he admitted, “but it's nowhere I have to be in any hurry.”

The young beauty grinned mischievously. “Then won't you stay and keep me company awhile?”

He smirked at her, and wondered briefly if she could see his expression in the shadows. “It's a tempting offer, Princess.” He took a step toward her. “I can see myself getting a lot of trouble for such a dalliance, though.”

She shifted her weight further into her hands, pushing out her chest and drawing his attention downward. “If it's my father you're worried about, then that's trouble I know very well how to handle.” She reached down over the railing, trailing her fingertips over the brown skin of his jaw.

Kata paused suddenly, and looked down at the pale skin of her arm. “Princess, I've just come off duty,” he said, a little sadly. “I smell of sweat and dirt, and I've not touched water since this morning.” He glanced up at her. “You know how dry land affects me.”

She grinned. “Shall I bathe you, then?” she asked.

Kata flicked his eyes up at her, shocked that she would even dare suggest it. “My lady, I could never ask such a thing from you!”

She shrugged, and then reached down with her other hand and drew him close. “Water is water, isn't it? A bath would restore your power, and then I would have you like I wanted.”

He resisted her pull only a moment, then took the railing in both hands and hauled himself up onto Hedate's balcony. She kissed him before even had a chance to climb over the railing, cradling the angles of his face between her hands. He let her, for a few seconds, before he finally wound one arm around to the small of her back and pulled her against his chest.

She drew away to nudge the tip of his nose with hers. “I missed you, Kata.” Her eyes lit up, and her nose wrinkled. “I see what you mean about not having touched water today, though.”

He chuckled under his breath. “I did warn you, Princess.” He sighed and caught her lips between his again. “I should go. I really do need a bath.”

She smirked. “Well, I smell like you now, so perhaps you should join me after all.” Her fingernails drew goosebumps up on the skin of his neck.

His muscles tensed against the sensation, and he closed his eyes. He wished she would dig in harder, let him feel that bloodthirsty passion. Instead, she ran her fingertips down into the crests of his shoulders, and he sighed.

“There, now,” she purred. “You put up such a fight; such pretense.”

Kata fought for a modicum of control over his emotions. “There's a very definite line between our castes, my lady.”

She harrumphed and kissed the spot just under his ear. “'My lady' this, and 'Princess' that,” she mocked. “Lines are made to be crossed, and rules to be broken.” She pressed her fingernails deeper into his skin, sending little pinches of pain down his back. “Give it up, Kata.”

“Hedate,” he moaned.

She giggled in his ear. “That's it,” she encouraged. “Call me by name. Break form, and show me what you plan to do with that irreverence.”

He caved with a growl, took her by the shoulders and pushed her backward so that he could hop the railing. He ran a callused hand over her shoulder, across the nape of her neck, and down the back of her dress, pulling the straps of her dress free of her arms.

“I would have you against every surface in your room,” he snarled. “I would have your teeth, your tongue to taste my flesh, my hands on every curve of your beautiful body. I would worship you like a priest, like no other man could please you.” His free hand came up and grabbed a fistful of her hair. “And I know how many men it takes to sate you,” he whispered harshly. “I did not become a general by being stupid or uninformed.” He controlled her skull by digging his fingers deep into her dark waves, and she reached up to grab his arm. “You're so ready to unleash a beast you know nothing about, Princess.” The tip of his nose touched hers. “Say the word, if you're so sure you can control it.”

The self-assured smile came back to her face. “Well then, General Kata,” she purred, “let me see what you're _really_ made of.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Kata is Atlantean, and a child of Poseidon. His power comes primarily from being in contact with water.


	7. Chapter 7

“He's going to get himself banished,” Nila grumbled as she locked the kitchen door for the night.

Orion shook his head and hefted his armor higher up on his shoulder. “He might act like it sometimes, sis, but Kata isn't stupid. And if I know anything about Hedate, it's that she knows exactly how to placate her father.”

“She might be the only one,” she mumbled.

“I kind of doubt that,” said Orion. “You weren't actually joking, were you?”

“What?”

“When you said he came down to the kitchens today.”

Nila sighed. “No, I wasn't joking.” She flicked her eyes up at him. “Don't tell Kata.”

“Don't worry, I won't.” He ruffled the pile of hair on the top of her head, and she struggled and playfully pushed him off. He watched his sister pull the pins out of her hair and tug off the bandanna, smoothing down the stick-straight brown hair she'd had in a bun all day. “So, what was it?” Orion asked. “It's really hard to get an audience with him, you know.”

“I know,” Nila acknowledged. “It's because he _hates people_.”

“You figured that out, huh?”

She shrugged. “Well, yeah! The only reason he came down in the first place was because it was somewhere he hadn't _hidden_ from them yet.”

“I'm surprised it took him this long.”

“What does that mean?” Nila asked.

“Have you even _been_ upstairs?” Orion gestured over his shoulder at the castle behind them. “There are hundreds of rooms, and his majesty has no doubt used every one of them as a hiding spot.” He nudged her with his elbow. “You can consider yourself very fortunate, indeed!”

Nila ignored the nudge and turned her eyes down at the path. “It was probably just a fluke,” she murmured.

“Do you want it to be?”

She looked up at him. “What?”

“Do you want to see him again?”

Nila thought about it. “I don't know,” she answered. “I mean, I thought he'd be... scarier. He puts off this really intense feeling, but when we were talking, it felt like he was just... just another soul, trying to be understood.”

“Yeah, you go for that sort of thing,” Orion said. Nila rolled her eyes, but it didn't stop him. “Friend to the friendless, you.”

“That's probably be what'll get _me_ banished,” she grumbled. “I mean, everyone has heard the rumors of what happens to the unfortunate souls who become lovers to the gods.”

“You might have a point there,” her brother said. “Do you like him?”

“Hells, I don't know,” she said, raising her arms. “I...” She let her shoulders collapse in a sigh. “I liked talking to him. And while I'll admit he's good-looking, I don't want to be the next notch in his bedpost.” She rubbed her arms nervously. “I don't want to get in anyone's way, or upset the status quo, or... you know. Be a homewrecker.”

Orion harrumphed. “That would be a legitimate concern, if Zeus hadn't proved several times over that _it can't be done_.”

“Yeah, but I can still get killed for it!” Nila retorted. Then she sighed. “I like him, but I'm pretty sure I'm better off outside his and every other deity's romantic circle.”

Orion ran a comforting hand over her shoulders. “I know you're lonely, sis. And I'm sorry I can't fix that for you.”

“Yeah, that'd be weird.”

“Yeah it would.” He patted her back. “Still, I really hope it works out for you.”

“You're putting my cart _way_ ahead of my horse,” she grumbled at him.

“And _you_ went along with it!” He winked at her. “That must mean you've got quite an imagination!”

“Any more teasing, and you can scrub your own armor.”

“I always scrub my own armor!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * A soul is immortal. The worst punishments a soul can endure are captivity, torture, or banishment. The closest thing to a death sentence is being banished to Tartarus/ Hell.
> 
> *That being said, a soul can also endure the same things a mortal can, including sleep, incapacitation, memory loss or loss cognitive function, dismemberment or other scarring. At a certain point, a soul can be traumatized or scarred to the point that their personalities change.
> 
> *Once a soul inhabits a body, they are considered "mortal." The cycle of life, death, and rebirth can be endless without a guide like Thanatos to pull a soul back to the Underworld, or to immortalize them, as a few of the gods have been known to do.
> 
> *There are several nasty rumors going on about the jealous nature of gods and their respective spouses. Whether or not they are true, it's not considered a safe bet to get romantically involved with a deity. The punishments can be cruel and severe.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nila starts opening up

And so it went that Hades appeared in the kitchens once each new moon, at alternating times with and without his entourage. He and Nila talked as if there were no class difference between them, save for the titles she called him.

He wasn't made of marble, after all! The sharp angles of his cheekbones were sculpted to carry an entire age's weight of duty to this place, so the smile that creased the corners of his eyes and bared his teeth seemed like an entirely unfamiliar expression. But every time it happened, Nila believed, it felt natural and well-deserved. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he was comfortable around someone besides Persephone.

Hades had to wonder at that, as well. It wasn't often he found someone who walked their own path instead of trailing behind him. Nila was self-sufficient and fulfilled in a way he envied. And yet, the way she looked at him sometimes, as if there were a great secret or burden she carried, made him wonder if perhaps they weren't more alike than he realized.

It happened once when he asked about her family.

“Well, you know Orion,” she said, in a tone that said she was ready to evade uncomfortable questions. “There's not really anyone else.”

“You had to have come from somewhere,” Hades reasoned. “Everyone knows my heritage.”

She chuckled at that. “That's definitely true.” She sighed and set a cup of strong tea in front of him and sat down next to him with her own cup. “The truth is,” she faltered, “I don't really know. Orion and I grew up under our stepfather. I don't remember much about him, but what I do remember...” She looked down into her tea. “He was not a kind man.”

The silence was too heavy. That meant something was wrong. “Who was he?”

She shook her head. “He just wanted me to call him 'Papa'.” She shivered and wrapped her hands around her cup. “And I did, but even that didn't keep him from...” she stopped.

Hades reached over and placed a comforting hand on her arm, and was surprised when she flinched. He gently slid his fingers down into the palm of her hand, separating her from her teacup. “It's all right,” he murmured. “You don't have to relive it for me.”

Nila swallowed and studied his long fingers for a moment. She ran her thumb nervously across his knuckles. “You probably already know,” she whispered, “Orion killed him.”

Hades nodded. “It's why he made it to general at such a tender age.” He smirked. “You're very fortunate.”

She snorted and wiped her face. “Yeah, I am.” She blinked away the vulnerability. “He can be so silly and impulsive, but I know I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for him.” She slowly picked up her tea. “I'd do just about anything for him, but he wouldn't let me.”

The king harrumphed. “You're a lot like him, then. You have a fierce sort of independence.”

Nila sipped her tea and raised her eyebrows. “That's probably true. Not everyone likes that particular quality, though.”

“I do.”

Nila realized then that he was still holding her hand. She looked up at him and smiled nervously. “That means a lot, coming from you, Lord Hades.”

He smirked and released her hand. “I hope you'll let me know if there's anything I _can_ do for you, though.” He raised the cup to his lips.

“I'll let you know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Okay, so remember I said a soul is immortal? This remains true! But a soul can be damaged to the point that they are forced to incarnate into a body, usually on the Surface. When this happens, most memories are lost or buried deep in the psyche, and the soul starts over as a new person.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The secret comes out.
> 
> Trigger Warning: blood, gore, battlefield medicine

Orion was up early. His shift started well before daybreak, and his sister was already up and cooking. She made breakfast for the two of them, and sent an extra packed lunch for Kata. Everyone knew Kata could fend for himself, both in the home and in battle, but Nila never failed to send him forth with a full stomach. The joke was made several times that Nila would make a good wife, but whenever it was brought up, Kata and Nila would look at each other and laugh at the prospect. The three of them were family, and whether or not a marriage occurred (and it was unlikely), there was the unspoken promise of protection in their small circle.

Still, Orion had a good chuckle at the large-ish bundle Nila sent with him: a whole loaf of still-warm bread, a spread made with finely-shredded cucumbers and yogurt, and half a loin of cured pork for the men to slice to their desired thickness. He shook his head. “She treats us like such children,” he mused quietly.

Kata was awake when Orion arrived at the barracks, already up to his waist in armor, and was busily running a wet cloth over his arms and shoulders.

“You almost ready?” Orion asked.

Kata looked up at him. “Yeah, almost.” He squeezed the rag into his hair and let the water run from his crown down the back of his neck. “I have to get my fix before duty.” He shook the water out of his hair and eyed the satchel in Orion's hand. “Sis sent lunch again?”

“Yep.”

The merman chuckled. “I don't know how I'm going to eat all the stuff she sends. I still have spanakopita from yesterday.”

“Give it to the soldiers. They could use the boost.”

“And spoil them all? They'll be after Nila like ants after honey.”

Orion chuckled. “I think she can handle them.”

Kata sighed and pulled on a clean tunic, and began to buckle the enclosures under each arm. “What are we doing today?”

“We got tunnel duty today.”

Kata groaned. “Really?”

“I thought you liked the tunnels,” said Orion. “Gives you a chance to get in the water.”

“That's not the part I'm dreading.”

Orion folded his arms. “Is it Hypnos or Thanatos this time?”

“Neither,” Kata said with a roll of his eyes. “It's Apate and Geras and their ilk.”

“Hey, you won't complain if Erebus is there.”

“That's different,” he insisted. “He's their father.”

“So hang out with him and you can both play wallflowers while I deal with the shit storm.”

Kata gave his friend a dry look. “That's kind of you, but I wouldn't be doing my job if I let you do all the work.” He pulled on his breastplate and tightened the straps, one at a time. “Why do they send both of us on tunnel duty, anyway?” he mumbled. “I mean, if it takes only one of us to handle it...”

“You and I both know that's not true.”

Kata groaned again. “Let's just gather the troops and get it over with. I'm not looking forward to seeing Erebus' kids.”

They gathered their platoons. Kata grudgingly shared Nila's spanakopita with a few of his men, but lied and said it was Orion's recipe. The effect was the same; the men began to hum and stretch with new energy, and congratulated Orion on his cooking skills. Orion just shook his head and accepted the praise, and vowed to pass it on to Nila when he got home.

The tunnels were brighter than usual that day. Kata chose to wade in the shoulder-deep water, rather than walk along the edge of the stream. The asphodels that bloomed along the edges of the water glowed softly, eliminating the need for portable light.

“This isn't a good start to things, Orion,” Kata murmured.

Orion looked at his friend. “What makes you say that?”

“It's too bright. That means Erebus isn't here.”

The thought made Orion raise a hand to stop his team. “And that's a bad thing because..?”

“Why do you think I like him so much?” Kata asked. “Because he and Nyx are the only ones actually keeping their children in line. There's a reason they stay in the tunnels, outside the city.” He shook his head. “I don't know about you, but if Erebus isn't there, that makes the idea of going in there even less appealing.”

Orion sighed. “Well, you're right about that. Hopefully Nyx is there, then.” He made a forward motion, and the troop began its steady march along the water's edge.

It happened in an instant: the wall to their left exploded open, sending hapless soldiers flying into the river. What began as a slow, quiet shuffling of feet and shifting of armor erupted into panic. Kata took control of the troop with a shout. “Formation! Wings front!”

Several soldiers, each bearing a pair of enormous wings, moved to cover the new opening, weapons drawn.

“Orion!” Kata yelled.

There was no answer.

Kata motioned to his section of the platoon. “Recovery mode, guys! Get to work!”

He got a chorus of “Yes sir!” and then souls of all shapes and colors splashed into the river and got to work clearing the stones away.

Kata dove beneath the surface, gills coming to life and separating gently from the skin under his jaw. His eyes lit up under the water, giving him a clarity most other souls Down here did not possess. He saw Orion immediately. His arm was caught under the rock pile, near the very bottom of the river. He wasn't struggling, not really. He was holding his breath, waiting as calmly as he could for a rescue. And he knew Kata would come.

But the rescue was not without consequence. The men working above him would never get to him before Orion drowned. Kata drew his sword.

“I'm sorry.”

Orion's expression took on a panicked look, but then he nodded his head in understanding. He opened his mouth and mouthed his sister's name.

“I'll take you to her as soon as we get you out.”

Orion nodded again.

Kata took a deep breath, hefted the blade high, and brought it down, severing Orion's arm above the wrist with a single blow.

There was nothing to Orion's scream except bubbles of air.

Kata wrapped both arms around his friend and pulled him to the surface, where the cries of anguish finally bore sound.

“Come on, men, heave-to!” Kata ordered. He held Orion's severed arm above the surface, above his heart, while his fellow soldiers waded into the water to pull their general to dry land. Once Orion was safely above water, Kata started giving orders. “Sound off!” One by one, the soldiers called out their names. Kata counted the men under his breath as they went down the roll-call, and as he did, he hastily bound up his friend's bleeding stub. “Anyone else injured?”

He got a smattering of “No sir!”

Kata looked up at the nearest soldier and pointed at him. “Send word to the king. Tell him what happened and where.” The soldier scampered away, and he looked around. “The rest of you, clear the area and make for a tactical retreat. Man two guards at the mouth of the tunnel, starting with the two lowest call numbers, and we'll rotate shifts until we can get this sorted. With any luck, I'll be back and we can finish up this afternoon.”

“What about me?” Orion gasped.

“What about you?” Kata griped. “Your arm's off! Take a breather!”

Orion gave him a defiant grin. “I don't remember having to take orders from you.”

Kata nodded. “Yeah, well, we can just wait to see what his Majesty says about that.” He pulled Orion up by his good arm, and the two of them shook out their wings before moving back the way they had come.

The two of them split off from their platoons after returning their junior officers to the barracks, told the men they were going to the infirmary, and hurried away.

That was about the same time the messenger arrived. Hades was in his study, poring over his accounts, stylus in hand, when the door slammed open.

“Lord Hades!”

Hades startled and looked up, and gave the intruder a reproachful look. “Don't you know how to _knock_?” He stood to his full height and strode toward the soul who had interrupted him.

The soldier froze, forgetting entirely how to address his king, and then suddenly knelt on the floor, head down. “I-I-I'm sorry, my Lord, there's been an accident.”

Hades towered over him, still angry at having been interrupted. “What kind of accident?” he dictated slowly.

“The tunnels caved in while we were patrolling, sir.”

Hades raised his eyebrows. That was cause enough for alarm. “Which teams were on patrol?”

“Kata and Orion, sir.”

Hades cursed under his breath and swept past the man on the floor.

The soldier got up and went after him. “M-My lord, I need orders!”

Hades didn't even turn to look at the man. He just called the orders out, letting them resonate in the hallway as he hurried off. “Notify the infirmary of any incoming injured, and then return to the barracks and wait for further orders.”

It was just as well that he was king and no one asked where he was going or what he was doing; he didn't need anyone to know. People stood aside and bowed their heads as he flew by. Good. Let them stay out of the way. Right now, Nila needed to know what had happened to her brother.

The kitchen was bustling when he charged in, but it didn't smell of food and cinders; the smell of blood and grain alcohol stung his nose, and Nila and Kata were busily hauling Orion onto the center of the kitchen table.

“Daisy, boil some towels!” Nila commanded, sending a young kitchen maid running. “Andrea, get me something to eat; something sweet.”

The girl who had left the room in a hurry to get water returned and saw Hades standing in the doorway. She let out a squeal and dropped the pot, sending water rippling across the kitchen floor to lap gently at his sandals. Hades instinctively pulled his robes aside and took a step backward.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up at what had happened. Nila's gaze met Hades'. No one moved for a split second, and then Daisy came to her senses and bent to scoop up the pot she had dropped.

“My Lord!” she babbled, “I-I'm so sorry, I didn't see you come in!”

He raised a hand to calm her. “It's fine. No harm done.” He looked at Nila again. “What is going on?” he asked softly.

The woman pursed her lips, pressing their full shape into a fine line. “Do you trust me, Lord Hades?” she asked.

A moment of intense silence ensued while Hades glanced at her hands, full with linen wrappings and already smeared with her brother's blood. Kata had a piece of the bandage pressed over the stump of Orion's arm, and was looking up at him with desperation in his eyes. Hades flicked his eyes back up at Nila. “I trust you.”

The head cook shifted her gaze back to the kitchen maid. “Daisy, I need those towels, please. Andrea?”

“Right away, Miss!” The other maid hurried off.

Hades slowly approached the table where Orion lay, wings pinned underneath him, fluttering uncomfortably. “What do you need me to do?”

Nila took that as permission to take charge. “Take Kata's place. I'll need you to hold his arm straight.” She looked at her friend. “Kata, get my wooden spoon and have him bite down on it.” Kata shifted to allow Hades room, and rushed over to the stove to grab a utensil from its holder.

Nila finished unwrapping her brother's arm and looked at the stump. “Good clean cut, Kata.”

“Thanks,” he said, and pressed the handle of the spoon into Orion's mouth.

“At least it won't be hard to clean.” She looked up as one of the maids set a plate next to her. On it was a generous piece of baklava, soaked in honey syrup. “Thank you.” She raised her voice. “Daisy! Where are my towels?”

“Coming, Miss!” The girl rushed in with a pile of steaming towels in her hands.

Nila took one and began cleaning the edges of the wound, and Orion cried out around the oral obstruction and began to struggle. “You'll have to put your weight into him, your Majesty.”

Hades did as he was told and forced Orion's arm down against the table.

Nila took a fresh towel from Daisy and dipped it in a small bowl she had off to one side.

“What is that?” Hades asked.

“Rectified spirit,” Kata answered. “Strong drink is a surprisingly efficient cleansing agent.”

Nila reached up and stroked her brother's cheek. “You're doing great. One more bad one, and it'll all be over.” Nila glanced at Hades, who shifted his weight harder into Orion's arm. Then she quickly and ruthlessly swiped the cloth directly over the wound. Orion shrieked and flexed his arm against Hades' weight. It only took a few seconds, and then Nila bent over her brother again. “It's all over, Orion. It's only going to get better from here.” She looked at Hades. “You can let go now.” She looked around the room. “All right, everyone back to work!” She waved her hands at the rest of the staff. “Thank you all for your help. I'll clean up in here.” The rest of the staff bustled about, grabbing the things that still needed doing, and exited the kitchen without a single objection.

Hades sighed and stood up. “Great. Now we can bind his arm.”

“We won't be binding it,” Nila said.

“What? What do you mean, you won't bind it?” He finally noticed the big piece of baklava on the table. “What's the baklava for?” he asked breathlessly. “He certainly deserves it, but I don't think he's up for eating it.”

Nila sighed, reached behind her head to untie the bindings that kept her wings from getting in the way of her cooking. “It's not for him.” She shook her wings out and took a deep breath. “It's for me.” She looked up at Hades.

He just stared at her a moment. Then his eyes narrowed. “Show me.”

Nila pulled up a chair and sat down next to Orion. She spread her wings out, their span easily twice Hades' height, until they seemed to fill the entire kitchen. She took her brother's arm in both hands, bent at the waist, and planted a slow, gentle kiss just above the stump.

Orion stopped crying. His breathing slowed. The wound stopped bleeding, and then began to glow. The light reached out, snaked into the shapes of bones and sinews, and formed a tight, bright ball at the end of Orion's arm. Just when Hades thought the shape might become blinding, it started to fade. Beneath the glow of Nila's power, Orion had inexplicably regrown his lost limb. Not even a fingernail was missing; not a hair was out of place.

Hades could do nothing but stare, mouth open in astonishment.

Nila broke the kiss and slowly pulled herself up straight. She was pale, sweat beading on her face. She seemed unbalanced, but she raised her eyes to look at her king with a kind of strength and defiance he had never seen before.

His voice came out in a whisper. “How did you do that?”

Nila's mouth opened, but nothing came out. She closed her eyes, struggled for a breath, and tried again, but all that came out was air. She sank against the back of the chair.

“Nila?” Kata asked.

Orion removed the spoon from his mouth and pushed himself up. “Catch her.”

Hades glanced at him. “Wha-?”

“She's going to pass out! Catch her!”

Hades cursed and leaped to obey. He reached out and managed to hook his arm under her left wing. Her body slouched against his chest, and he lost his balance and fell to one knee. He took her face in his free hand and rolled her head so that he could look at her. “Nila. Nila, wake up.” He patted her cheek a few times and her eyelids fluttered. He sighed with relief. “Stars, you scared me.”

“S-sorry,” she whispered.

Orion rolled off the table, grabbed the baklava unceremoniously off the plate and took a little bite. He took the morsel out of his mouth and held it out to his sister. “Here. Open up.”

Nila opened her mouth and accepted the small bite, and began to chew slowly.

Hades watched her. “Is it always like this?”

Orion shrugged. “Depends on the severity of the injury.”

Kata smirked. “Did you never wonder why neither of us has any scars, your Majesty?”

Hades shook his head. “I never see you without your armor. It's hardly a wonder I don't notice your scars.” He shook his head again, and this time his voice came out raised and angry. “How- how can you be so calm about this? Why am I the last person to know about this?”

Nila's small hand appeared on his, and he looked down at her. “It was a... s-secret.”

“A secret?” he asked.

Kata and Orion looked at each other. Then Orion sighed, flexed his newly-formed fingers, and ran them into his hair. “Our stepfather auctioned her off to other souls; _sold_ her for her abilities... among other... less savory things.” His jaw clenched and he looked away as the old anger surged through him.

Kata looked at his king. “They swore me to secrecy.”

Hades nodded his understanding. “You were protecting her.”

“We tried.” Orion bit off another piece of baklava and leaned over the table to gently tuck it between Nila's teeth. “Here.”

Hades looked down at the woman lying against his chest. “I remember,” he murmured, “you freely admitted to killing your stepfather.” He glanced at Orion. “You said he hurt your sis...” The rest of the word fell apart before it could be uttered. _Her_. He finally connected the dots. Why had it taken him so long?

Orion shook his head. “Nila doesn't talk about it. But I came in and he had her locked in a cage, at least as drained as you see her now. I made a split-second decision, and I have never, ever regretted it.”

It stunned Hades that he would be so succinct about killing another person, but upon reflection, he wondered if it wasn't a subject Orion himself was uncomfortable discussing. He looked down at the hands that had performed the deed and studied them for a moment.

Finally, he sighed and gestured at Orion's hand. “Let me have another piece of that.”

Orion looked at the baklava. “Oh. Sure.” He bit off another little piece and passed it across the table to Hades.

“Thank you.” He took the morsel between his fingers and looked down at the woman. “Nila?”

She hummed in question, and then opened her mouth to accept the baklava when he pressed it to her lips.

Hades quickly sucked the honey off the tips of his fingers. Damn, but that was good stuff. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

Nila breathed a sigh and forced her eyes open. “Been worse, I guess.” She looked around and sleepily pushed herself upright. “I'm sorry, my lord. I... I lost consciousness for a moment, there.”

“It's all right,” Hades murmured soothingly. Then he smirked. “You might be the only one who thinks I'm comfortable enough to lean against.”

Nila looked at him blankly, trying to process which emotion was appropriate. She settled on tired embarrassment, propped an elbow on the table and hid her face in one hand. “Oh my Stars.”

Hades laughed under his breath. “Sorry. It was too easy.” Then he looked away. “We need to talk, Nila.” He looked up at his generals. “Are you both all right?”

Orion nodded. “Good as new, sir.”

“Then please give us the room.”

Kata and Orion each saluted him, and then left the way they had come.

Not a word was spoken until Hades was sure they had gone. He got up off the floor and sat in front of Nila in one of her kitchen chairs, and stared at her until she started to fidget. He took that small, vulnerable time frame to put his thoughts in order.

Finally, he clicked his tongue. “What did I just witness?” As if he knew Nila wouldn't answer, he went on. “I have met gods and titans and primordial beings, and _none_ of them can do what you just did.”

She glanced at him. “Really?” came the small whisper.

Hades shook his head. “Not even Asclepius, and I've _seen_ his handiwork. He's good. He's nowhere near _that _good.” He bent forward and set his elbows on his knees. “The rule is that you can't create something from nothing. If I lose a limb, it's lost. If I am wounded, I will bear a scar. The fact that you broke that rule just now, Nila, means that _everything _I have ever learned up to this point has an exception.” He shook his head again. “What you did is... _miraculous_, even by the rigorous standards of godhood.” He paused and looked at her. “Just... what exactly are you?”

She shook her head. “I don't know,” she whispered. She was stiff, hands clutched tightly in her lap.

“Is Orion like you?”

“I don't know.” She swallowed.

“You've never seen him use his power?”

She shook her head, and finally Hades noticed the shiver in her arms and wings.

He paused. She was scared. He looked at his hands. “Do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked.

She flapped her arms. “Well, you are _now_.”

He smirked as he saw the little sliver of the Nila he recognized. “You didn't berate me or criticize me when I was vulnerable, and I think it's time I show you that I'm capable of the same kindness.” She looked at him, and his smile widened a little more. “I know why you kept it a secret, Nila.”

Her lip quivered, but she held his gaze until her eyes filled with tears. “You're not going to send me away?” she sobbed.

Hades' smile shattered. “What?”

Her hysterical voice overlapped his. “Are you going to chain me up? Am I going to Tartarus?”

Hades waved his hands in front of her. “Whoa, whoa, stop.”

“I don't want to live behind bars again, please. Please!”

Hades sank to his knees in front of her, reached up and grabbed both her hands. “_Nila_,” he emphasized gently. The woman ceased her babbling, and Hades shook his head. “You're literally the first friend I've had in centuries. You've done nothing wrong, and you've entrusted me with a powerful secret that, in all reality, you weren't required to reveal.” He stroked the backs of her hands with his thumbs. “I could never send you away.”

The cook watched him silently until the tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. She inhaled sharply. “We're friends?” she whimpered.

“Of course we are. You're a great cook, but I don't just come down here for the food.”

It took Nila a moment to process that information, and then she broke down and let herself weep. Hades pushed himself up and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and she clutched his robes and cried into his chest.

“Did your stepfather tell you those things?” he asked.

She nodded.

He shushed her and rubbed her back. “All those things he told you were lies, Nila,” he whispered. “He was just a cruel bastard, that's all.” He took her by the arms and pushed her upright, and then dried her tears on the sleeve of his robe. “He's dead and gone, and that's a kinder punishment than I would have given him.” He let his hand linger on her face for a moment. Her skin was softer than he had first thought. He rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone, feeling her delicate bone structure with the tips of his fingers.

Nila heaved a shaky sigh and leaned into the comforting warmth of his palm.

Something inside Hades melted. She had done it again, without even meaning to; she had reassured him, made him feel strong and powerful. It was an unfamiliar feeling; most days all he got was the weight of responsibility. The power that came with his position wasn't something he really cared about, but this? This was different. This was something special; a type of power he might cherish, should she decide to bless him with it.

He caught himself very suddenly. Already he was thinking of her in higher terms than himself. And while it was true that she was special, godhood was still a long way away. He smirked sadly and rubbed the tear streaks out from under her eyes. “Don't be afraid, Nila. Not of me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Clothing for winged soldiers must be tailored to accommodate their unique figures. Thus the need for buckles, buttons, and wide belts.
> 
> *Hypnos and Thanatos (Sleep and Death) are brothers, born to Nyx and Erebus. Apate (Deceit) is one of their sisters, and Geras (Old age) one of their brothers.
> 
> *Erebus is the god of Darkness, and for such an intimidating presence, is really very likable. He's very much a father-figure, and is absolute king of puns and dad jokes.
> 
> *Nyx is the Titan of Night, and among the most striking beauties in her pantheon.
> 
> *Kata actually is Orion's superior; Orion has been trained to use humor to help deal with intense pain, and in this instance, Kata is willing to let him.
> 
> *"Rectified Spirit" is a term for fortified wine or other grain alcohol. In this case, something similar to ouzo, though that recipe came over two thousand years later.
> 
> *As a cook, Nila keeps her sleeves short, her hair up, and her wings bound.
> 
> *Asclepius is the god of Medicine and Healing.
> 
> * Hades is among the most resilient of the gods; moreso even than Zeus or Asclepius; and even he is amazed at Nila's talent. Let that sink in.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades must decide what to do with Nila's secret

Hades shut himself in his room for the rest of that afternoon. He needed time and space to think without being interrupted. His accounts were long forgotten, and no matter how hard he tried to focus, his racing heart wouldn't let him. Just what in the nine Hells was she? How could a normal soul possibly _shine_ the way she did? Wasn't that something only the gods could do? And, Stars above, what had she done to him to make him feel like that? Somehow, she had given him the strength to carry a weight that had become unbearably heavy over the ages. What _was_ that?

Hades rubbed a hand across his chest. It was still warm from where her head had lain. Just the thought made the spot ache.

Minthe was beautiful; tall, for a woman, slim, with the subtle curves he so admired. But she was so emotionally cold that Hades was quick to leave her bed. The sex was good, but there was no afterglow. If there ever was an emotional connection, it was one-sided.

So the feeling that hit him now was one he had never experienced, not even once in four thousand years. It was quite the reverse of what he had felt for Minthe. He had recognized her beauty almost instantly, but it had taken him quite a while to realize that Nila was at all attractive. The cook hid her dark hair in a tangled mess, and never wore paints or jewelry or fine clothes. The fact was that she wasn't a goddess, or really much of a nymph. She wasn't seductive, or at least she didn't try to be. She didn't play with his emotions, didn't see him for his rank, didn't entertain him for his power, and never asked for much of anything except...

Hades cursed under his breath. _Except for me to be myself_, he realized. Wasn't this the exact thing he was complaining about to Persephone?

That brought him to a completely new dilemma. If this was indeed what he thought it was, he needed to talk to one of the few people who might actually know what he was getting into.

He finally opened the door. He knew what needed to be done. He strolled through the castle, not paying much attention to the souls who went about their businesses around him, and for once it was nice not to notice the sheer population of his home.

He almost absently pushed open the door to his study, and found his page where he had left him, still organizing his scrolls and tablets.

The page caught sight of him and bowed. “My lord.”

Hades acknowledged the soul and slowly sat down at his desk. He sat there for some time, until the small man approached him and stood quietly at his side. “Yes?” Hades asked tiredly.

“I'm sorry, sir,” the page apologized. “My son is in Orion's platoon.”

Hades looked up at him. The man was short, still young by his standards, but wore a look of intense worry. Hades sighed. “Your son is fine, Ameus,” he said quietly. “There were... no serious injuries.”

The page sighed, his shoulders relaxed. “Thank you, my lord.”

Hades let his gaze relax, and then sat forward to put his chin in his hand. “Ameus.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Have you ever seen something you couldn't explain?”

“All the time, sir.”

Hades looked up at him. “What was it, if you don't mind my asking?”

The page's eyes unfocused, and he smiled as the memory came back to him. “Living Down here,” he said, “I see people all around me who I recognize, although I haven't met them before. I marvel at you, my lord, and the other gods. Seeing things I can't explain...” He chuckled. “It's become fairly commonplace.” He looked at Hades. “Why, my lord? Did such a thing happen to you?”

Hades rubbed his chin in thought. “Yes,” he answered. “Although... I'm not so used to that experience.” He sighed and looked up at Ameus. “Send word to Hermes,” he instructed.

“Yes, sir?”

“Tell him I need to see Astraeus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Astraeus is the Titan god of dusk, married to the goddess of dawn, Eos, and renowned for his divination abilities.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades brushes up on his knowledge of anatomy.

There were few titans who had escaped judgement following the Titanomachy, and Astraeus was one of them. Astraeus had prophesied the rape of Demeter, Hades' marriage to her daughter, and Hedate's eventual rise to power. Two of the three had come to pass; that was a good track record, if Hades knew anything about odds.

He wasn't looking forward to when his daughter came of age to ascend the throne. Zeus would not be quietly deposed, and knowing Hedate's penchant for erratic and violent behavior, it made a quiet coronation even less likely.

But that was still a long ways off, and that meant there was time to wait.

Astraeus refused to come to the underworld, and for a good reason. He couldn't see the stars from there, and reading the stars was precisely what most of the gods wanted him for. But, according to Hermes, the god of divination would welcome his kin any time he wished to make the journey. Unlike those who lived on Olympus, Astraeus had set up a home for himself in the Upper World, a place to which Hades only traveled in times of desperate need.

The question was if he was really that desperate.

There were other avenues he could take until that time came, he reasoned. He could do more research on the gate, on the souls who sought refuge in his city, on Nila. He doubted it would be proper or polite to ask her if she would submit to such testing, though.

So it seemed completely out of the blue that one day, not long after, Hades marched into the barracks unannounced.

Someone shouted, “Attention!” and everyone in the room scrambled to their feet.

Hades turned to the nearest soldier, a thin, wiry man with ebony skin and sleepy black eyes. “Am I interrupting?” he asked.

“No sir!”

Hades smirked uncomfortably. “At ease.”

The man looked a bit sheepish. “Um... yes sir.”

Hades looked around at the platoon, who were in various states of dress and armor. “Where are your superior officers?” he asked the soldier he had first spoken to.

“On a personal errand, sir. They should be along shortly.”

“Very well. What is your name, soldier?”

The man shifted his weight worriedly. “I have no name, sir. I am Number Ten.”

Hades frowned. “Surely your fellows have a moniker for you. I won't reduce you to a number.”

The man nodded, and smirked. “They call me Strange, sir.”

Hades raised an eyebrow. “I'm sure they do.” The two of them grinned at each other, and the tension in the barracks relaxed a little. “Perhaps you and your men can assist me, Strange. I'm doing some anatomical research. Wings, specifically.”

Strange reached across his chest and patted his own shoulder. “Well, sir, I'm not sure I can help you, since I don't have any.”

“That's perfectly fine. Is there an open space I can use to inspect the men one at a time? I don't want to get in anyone's way while I conduct my research.”

Strange gave him a slightly relaxed salute. “My job is to serve you, your Majesty.” Then he gestured toward the back of the barracks. “There's a place right back here.” He led Hades past his fellow soldiers to the open area at the back of the room, and stood patiently while Hades examined his back and shoulders.

Strange was the anomaly of the group, without wings or wing notches. Many of the other men had small divots along their spines where a pair of wings might likely sit comfortably. He asked each of the men about their families and tried to determine if their parents or siblings had wings, but there was almost no evidence that the trait was genetic. Neither Hades nor any of his siblings had wings, but Hermes did, as did Astraeus.

Altogether, it was an infuriating endeavor.

Kata and Orion came back just as Hades was finishing up with one of the winged soldiers. They had brought the men lunch, bread and meat in a cloth sack slung over Orion's broad back. They were chatting and cutting up with the men just inside the door when Strange wedged his way over and whispered in Kata's ear.

“Lord Hades is Here.”

Kata's smile broke, and he jerked his head at Orion to follow him. Strange led him down the line of bunks to the space where Hades was doing his research.

“Your Majesty?” Kata asked. Hades looked up, and Kata and Orion saluted him.

Hades lazily saluted back. “Good morning, Generals. At ease.”

“Is there something we can help you with, sir?”

“No, I seem to be doing fine on my own.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “My research doesn't seem to be going anywhere.”

“Research, sir?” Orion asked.

Hades gently reached up and pushed away the soldier's left wing to examine his back. “Four extra wing notches,” the king mumbled.

“He's trying to see where the wings come from,” Kata noticed.

Hades flicked his eyes at him. “Very astute, General Kata.”

Kata and Orion looked at each other. “How can we help?”

Hades sighed and jotted something on his tablet with his stylus. “You can't. Not unless you know anything about assignment of power.”

“You mean what determines who has wings and who doesn't.”

Hades actually focused his eyes on them this time. “Yes.” He folded his arms over one knee. “What do you two know?”

Kata shrugged. “It has something to do with our Names, but I'm not sure what.”

Hades stood up and turned to the soldier he had been examining. “I'm finished. Thank you for your time.” Then he wiped the tip of his stylus and studied the two generals carefully. “I'm not sure I follow you.”

“Well, I...” Orion faltered. He looked to Kata for permission, and the smaller general nodded. “The theory is that power isn't passed down from our parents. It's based on our Stars, and we can sort of correlate how many wing notches we have to what our Names mean, and that Name's ranking among the other souls.”

Hades narrowed his eyes. “Very well. Say I try to follow this line of thinking. What do your Names mean?”

The two men looked at each other again, and then Kata sighed. “I don't use my full name, but it means 'Healing Fire'.”

Hades shifted his gaze to Orion. “And yours?”

“Mine means 'Decision'.”

Hades narrowed his eyes and hummed. “And this supposed hierarchy; what is it based upon?”

Kata shrugged. “I'm not sure. Virtue of some kind, perhaps?”

The king looked at Orion. “And you subscribe to this theory?”

“I don't have much else to go on, my lord.”

Hades hummed again, and then folded his arms. “And what about your sister, then? What does her name mean?”

Orion automatically lowered his chin in defense. “With all due respect, my lord, that's not my place to say. It's hers.”

Hades seemed to take that answer in stride. “Fair enough.” He gestured to Orion. “Come on, then, General Orion. Let's see how you compare with your subordinates.”

“What do you need me to do, sir?”

Hades let his expression fall into a dry scowl. “Do I really need to say it? Strip to the waist.”

Kata's face drew up and he pursed his full mouth. It didn't hide the dimples that were forming in his cheeks, though.

“What?” Hades demanded.

Kata shook his head. “I think I should bite my tongue on this one, sir.”

Hades raised an eyebrow. “Well, by that logic, I might actually find the notion amusing.”

Orion unbuckled the sides of his tunic, pulled the garment over his head, and stepped up into the spot his underling had occupied a few minutes prior.

Hades was relentless. “So come now. What was it?” He gently lifted the feathers next to Orion's spine and began counting under his breath.

Kata shook his head, wondering what consequence his admission was going to get him. “You told Orion to strip, and the thought occurred to me how commanding you must be in the bedroom.”

The effect was immediate: Hades' mouth drew up, bared a perfect smile that creased the edges of his eyes, and he let out a low, chilling chuckle. “That's none of your business,” he said. Then he nodded thoughtfully. “That was pretty funny, though.”

“Perhaps I should be more candid with you, then, your Majesty.”

“Don't push your luck.” Hades hummed. “Twelve extra wing notches!” he mused quietly. He picked up his tablet and marked the data with his stylus. “You have room for _fourteen _wings!” He shook his head. “This is incredible. I wasn't aware a soul could function with that much power.”

“Is fourteen a lot, sir?” Orion asked.

“It's more than any of the other soldiers I've interviewed.”

Orion nodded. “Wow! So, what does that mean?”

Hades looked confused. “I'm not sure. I think it might have something to do with your power capacity. I've seen souls born with wings, but I've never heard of anyone acquiring _new_ sets.”

Orion gave his friend a sidelong glance.

Kata sighed. “You're going to love this, then.” He began unbuckling his tunic.

“Do I sense some sarcasm, General Kata?” Hades asked.

Orion folded his wings and slipped his tunic back on. “Brace yourself, your Majesty. You're about to have your data thrown completely off.”

Orion was the taller and skinnier of the two generals, with flat, trim muscles. Kata was smaller and darker, with broader shoulders that sloped like an inverted triangle down into his waist. His muscles were defined, with very little fat. Hades knew that look; it was his own figure, scaled down to almost Nila's size. And that meant that Kata suffered the same depressive anorexia that Hades endured from time to time.

Hades sighed, shook his head, and gestured for Kata to step forward. He didn't like the idea of comparing himself to Kata. Especially where Hedate was involved. “Turn around.” Kata obeyed, and Hades pushed at the feathers around his spine. He tugged a little harder and grunted with the effort. “That's odd,” he mumbled.

“My lord?” Kata asked.

“Your wings are thicker at the base than everyone else's. I can't get to your spine.”

“Want me to spread them?”

Hades glanced up. “Do you mind?”

“No sir.” Kata gently pulled his wings straight up, careful not to knock anyone over with the long, strong primary feathers.

Hades stared in wonder at the sheer extent of the wings; as small as Kata was, Hades almost felt humbled. The limbs were so _big_! Hermes' wings weren't even that big, and Polaris' set was surely bigger. Hades suddenly felt terribly small in Kata's presence.

“Sir?” Kata asked.

His voice seemed to snap Hades out of his rapture, and Hades bent to look at the spaces under and between Kata's wings. He couldn't shake his sudden feeling of fragility. What unusual strength radiated from this otherwise ordinary soul! If he'd had the mind to, Kata might very well be able to literally snap him in half.

To reassure himself of his rank, Hades whispered something he probably shouldn't have. “What do you want with my daughter?”

Kata swallowed, but was careful not to curl his wings back down in defense. “I love her, sir.” He knew what Hades was doing. He was being quiet, not calling attention to their disagreement. This was all to remind Kata of his place. That meant Hades was afraid of him, and was trying to make him just as afraid.

“And what designs do you have for her?” The tips of Hades' fingers pressed into the divots next to his spine.

“That's not my place to say, my lord,” Kata whispered back.

“Isn't it?” Hades asked, his voice becoming a growl. “Perhaps it should be, since you're fucking her.”

He had no evidence, and Kata knew he didn't because Hedate was good at hiding it. But he was still and quiet, and tried to keep the frightened tremor out of his voice. “I love her as she is, your Majesty,” he whispered. “I want nothing from her that she isn't willing to give of her own free will.” He looked at his feet. “That being said, perhaps you should ask her what _her_ designs are for _me_, sir.”

That was the unfortunate moment when Hades finished counting. If Kata was using Hedate, for whatever purpose, there wasn't much he could do until something illegal actually occurred. Part of what made him a just ruler was the fact that he felt obligated to follow the very laws he had created for his citizens. Besides, if Kata had the willpower, he could do almost whatever he pleased. And if Hedate was using Kata... well, the only person who might be able to stop her was Hades himself. But did he really have the fortitude to deny Hedate anything she wanted? Stars, how weak was he, really? Did he really deserve godhood? To be king of the Underworld? Perhaps there was some merit to those who called him “Zeus of the World Beneath.” Perhaps he deserved to be compared to his little brother. No one ever compared Zeus to him, and he was the oldest brother, damn it! Why couldn't _he_ be the basis for comparison?

Hades slowly pulled himself upright and swallowed. “Sixteen.” The word came out in a whisper. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Sixteen wing slots.” He hurriedly scooped up his tablet and stylus. “I...” He coughed and nodded politely at the generals. “I shall take my leave now. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Your Majesty,” Kata objected.

But Hades swiftly disappeared into the platoon of soldiers. The door at the far end of the barracks opened and shut again, and their king was gone.

Kata sighed and looked at Orion. “If he thinks I've got lots of wing notches, wait 'til he meets your sister.”

Orion nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Hades is the pantheon's preeminent scholar on soul structure/ anatomy, the Underworld and its history, and Tartarus/ Hell.
> 
> * There's a lot of Astraeus' prophecy on Hedate that will have to be discovered as the story moves forward. No one god knows the entire prophecy except Astraeus. For now, only Hedate's parents know that she is supposed to inherit the Olympian throne, although nobody really knows at what cost that will be.
> 
> *There are lots of Virtues, depending on which mythology you study. In Christian mythos, Faith, Hope, and Love are the cardinal three; while in Greek, there are Temperance, Wisdom/ Prudence, Justice, and Fortitude/ Courage.
> 
> * Kata has falcon wings. Both Orion and Nila have red hawk wings (similar shape, different species). Polaris has eagle wings. If Hades had wings, his would likely be vulture or condor.
> 
> * Hades is known as the god of sex, sensuality, and the mysteries of death. It's rumored that he is a bit of a sexual deviant, but Hades doesn't kiss and tell. Kata makes his joke with this in mind.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades reflects on his discoveries. Nila comforts her friend.

Hades let himself sulk. He couldn't bring himself to go back to the castle, where just anyone could find him. He didn't feel like running from his entourage again. So he found a spot in the foundations behind the castle, near the gardens, climbed up between two of the statues in the wall, and hid there in the dark. He sat down against the wall, ran his fingers into his dark hair, and let the despair wash over him. The weight was back again, the responsibility and the pressure of being a worthy ruler, leader, and father. Even the rings on his fingers seemed too heavy to bear. It was enough to weep over, but he found he couldn't quite summon the tears to let it out.

And just as suddenly, like a ray of sunshine through dense clouds, a sweet, loving sound pierced the darkness around him. A song. Hades looked up, wondering what kind of power could have possibly cut through his depression. He listened for a moment; he didn't recognize the song, nor really recognize the voice, but it was sweet and pretty, light and joyous without flaunting the singer's happiness in his face. He pulled himself to his feet and peeked out from behind the statue of Euterpe, and down into the gardens below.

His gaze fell on a familiar body, crouched among the herbs and vegetables. Her feet were bare and covered in dark, fertile soil, wings bound up neatly behind her, and she was singing a tune Hades had trouble placing in his considerable memory. It was Nila, and as usual, she radiated contentment. For just a moment, Hades forgot about her Name and its meaning, the number of wing notches that might be on her back, the possibility of being overpowered or usurped.

“You have a lovely voice,” he said, just loud enough to be heard.

Nila gasped, breaking the melody off, and looked around for the sound of his voice. “Lord Hades?”

“Up here.”

She looked up the face of the castle wall, and found him standing between the statues. She growled under her breath and reached over to pull a ripe tomato off its parent plant. “What in the nine Circles are you doing up there?”

“Hiding. What else?”

“Scaring me, that's what!” She got up off one knee and lobbed the tomato at him.

Hades ducked, and the fruit hit Euterpe squarely on the nose. The king chuckled. “You missed.”

“Oh, you wasted it!” she groaned. She reached for another tomato. “Look, actually try to catch it this time, will you?”

Hades raised his eyebrows. “Oh. All right.” She tossed the second tomato at him, and he reached out from the alcove and snatched it neatly out of the air. He handled the round red object thoughtfully. “What do I do with it?” he asked. He looked down at Nila, who was dusting off her knees.

“Eat it.”

“Raw?”

She stood up and gave him a dry look. “It won't kill you.”

“Well, that's certainly true.” He looked at her again as she reached up into the olive tree that stood a few feet away and began nimbly climbing into its branches, which was a feat because she still had her gathering basket hooked on her left arm. “That was not how I got up here.”

“Yeah, well, your arms are longer than mine. I can't climb the rock face, and I can't fly, so...” She stood up on the tree's largest limb.

“I didn't know you couldn't fly.”

She bobbed her head. “I can kind of glide, but it's a bad idea in close quarters like these.”

Hades nodded his understanding and reached a hand out to help her from the branch into the stone alcove.

“Thanks.” She held out her hand. “Here, let me have that. I'll show you something.”

Hades handed her the tomato, and they sat down together in the dark. Nila reached into the basket and pulled out a knife, and cut a deep cross into the red flesh.

“I'm surprised you'd deign to join me in this cramped little spot,” Hades mused.

Nila shrugged. “As long as I can get out, I'm fine.” She reached into her basket again and pulled out a box. She opened it, revealing a mound of white grains.

“Salt?” Hades asked.

She hummed and nodded, and pressed the whole tomato into the box. “Do you like oregano?”

“Anything but mint.”

She grinned and chuckled under her breath. “Sorry, that's funnier than it really should be.” She pressed a few fresh leaves of oregano into the cut.

Hades rolled his eyes. “I'm sure I've earned it.” He sighed. “Have you..?”

“Here.” She handed him the tomato.

Hades took it, twisted his mouth uncertainly, and then bit into the fruit. His brow creased, and he hummed and licked the juices from the corners of his mouth. “How do you do that?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“Make everything taste so good.”

Nila shrugged. “I don't know. It just comes naturally.”

Hades rolled the tomato gently in his hand. The phrase reminded him of his terrible day. “Can I ask you something?” he asked softly.

“Of course.”

“And can I trust you be honest with me?” He flicked his eyes up at her.

Nila was quiet. She looked at the dark stone beneath her. “I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I'm sorry for hiding things from you.” She wrung her hands together, inhaled, and looked up at him. “You may have noticed I have trouble trusting people, myself.”

“I have.” He nodded. “So when I ask you things like this, I promise I'll leave you a way out. Tell me if you can. And if you can't, let me know. I'll try to understand.”

She stared at him. “What is the question?”

Hades could have used that moment to ask her about her Name, or her wings, or any number of things he wanted to know. But somehow one thought was more pressing. “Have you ever loved someone?” he asked. He looked at the massive black skull ring on his right hand. “Have you ever been so desperate to please or protect that you begin to see your life spiral out of control? Even perhaps to the point that you fail at the very thing you're tasked with doing?”

The small, intimate space was silent for what felt like eternity. Perhaps he was wrong in thinking that she might sympathize with him.

“Yes.”

Hades looked up. Her cute, petite features were drawn together in a look of terrible sadness. “Who was it?”

Nila looked away. “I'm not sure I should say, my lord.”

“Why not?”

“Because I feel sure you won't like my answer.”

Hades sighed, but said nothing for a few seconds.

Nila curled up against the wall and hugged herself. She had given him an acceptable answer, but it only meant that she was continuing to hide things from him. That wasn't what she wanted. She sighed. “It was Kata.”

Hades looked at her. It took a moment, but a sharp pang shot across his chest and down into his stomach. Kata. How _could_ he? How dare he tarnish her purity? How could she have wanted someone like him?

“Do you know what empathy is, my lord?” she asked.

Hades blinked the red fog out of his vision. “I... yes. I know what it is.”

“Then I hope you'll understand what it means to _be_ an empath.” She pointedly held his gaze for a moment, and then looked away again. “When I first met him, he was newly widowed. His very presence felt starved for affection; something I knew I could give. Every day I saw him and became more acquainted with him, the pull became stronger. It was so intense at first that I felt I shouldn't touch him at all, because I thought I might not release him again.” She rubbed her arms. “But... eventually, I lost the battle.”

Hades watched her for a moment. Then he looked at the floor. “You told me he wasn't your type.”

She laughed shortly. “Yes, I found that out the hard way. We both did.”

“How do you mean?”

Nila sighed. “You've seen my power. I heal wounds and scars. Damage is what I'm drawn towards, and Kata is no different. It kindled a fire that burned hot, bright, and far too fast. And when the fuel was gone... the fire went out.”

Hades flashed on something Kata had said earlier, about why neither of them had scars. He rubbed his chest. “You lied to me.”

Her tone became defensive. “With due respect, my love life isn't your business.”

“You also said you didn't know anything about him playing around with my daughter. Do you expect me to believe that too, now?”

Nila was quiet. So that's what his melancholy was about. The sadness pulled down the corners of her mouth. She turned over and picked up her basket, and pulled herself up between the statues. “I should... I should go.”

Regret hit Hades like an arrow to the chest. “Nila, wait!” He scrabbled to his knees and reached to grab her hand. “Please wait.” She turned and looked down at him, and Hades could see tears forming in her eyes. He needed to say something, _anything_ to make her stay. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I'm sorry. None of this is about you. I'm just... I'm jealous and selfish and spiteful, and I have no idea why you put up with me, as friend or king or anything.” He gripped her hand tightly in both his. “Hedate is everything to me, and I just want to protect her, and I can't help but compare myself to him at every turn, and it's maddening!”

She just stared at him.

“Please, Nila,” he begged, “You're literally the only one who always shows me that there are other options besides fighting or fleeing. You're the only one who gives me...” He stopped. Hope. She gave him hope. That was what her Name meant. And if that was true, did he really have any right to demand that she stay?

He finally realized what he was doing and released her hand. “I... I'm sorry.” He sat back. “Do what you will. Go if you must. But please... forgive me, I beg you.”

Nila looked down at the king, kneeling before a common cook and begging forgiveness. She sighed and turned around. “When Kata told me he was in love with Lady Hedate, I was hurt. I thought he loved me. I resented him for a time, and I suppose that's what spurned lovers do. I had to come to the conclusion that I was the one who shone too brightly; that I had burned him out, and that wasn't a notion I took to easily. But Kata never changed how he treated me. He was kind and supportive, and even though I still cared about him, I knew I would never have him back.” She sighed. “What I said before was true. I don't know what has happened between him and your daughter. I know only that he fancies her.”

“And how is he not your type?” Hades asked dryly.

Nila smirked. “I need someone who doesn't burn out.” She came back into the darkness and knelt before him. “Why are you so busy comparing yourself to Kata, your Majesty?”

He sighed. “He told me his theory on where your wings come from. I didn't even notice before, how the number of wing slots correlates to his rank. He's my highest general, and he has a capacity for eight sets of wings.” Hades looked away. “And if he had those wings, he'd be more powerful even than me. A god-killer.”

Nila hummed and smirked. “Well, by that reasoning, I outrank him, then.”

Hades focused his eyes on her. “What?”

Nila chuckled. “Kata has a strange idea of who has potential, your Majesty. And maybe because of our relationship, it's only fair that he sees a lot in me.” She hesitantly reached up and brushed the hair out of his eyes, and tucked the strands behind his ear. “But potential is all it is, Lord Hades. Whether Kata or Orion or I have potential doesn't mean anything without proper cultivation.” She picked up the discarded tomato and showed it to him. “Just like my plants, people have to be motivated and have limits set in order to produce a desired effect. What our potential is depends on the people who give us direction.” She smiled at Hades. “So, first and foremost, you're getting ahead of yourself. Kata isn't a god-killer. You haven't made him one, have you?”

Hades thought about this. “You mean to tell me I'm the one giving him direction.”

“Yes.”

The king shook his head. “How in the nine Hells were you not made one of my advisors?” He rolled his eyes. “You could easily replace Teleus.”

Nila laughed under her breath. “By that logic, I _am_ an advisor!” She stroked his cheek, and felt the skin around his mouth fold into a smile.

Hades traced his fingers over the knuckles of her other hand. “And... and second?”

The sad thoughtfulness returned to Nila's face, and she ran her thumb over the creases by his eye. “Second, there will only be so much you can protect your daughter. There will come a time when she no longer wants your protection. I might not have any children, but I know what it feels like to not be wanted anymore.”

“She won't need me.”

“You're her father. She'll always need you.”

Hades nodded. “Out of curiosity, Nila...”

“Yes?”

“How many wing notches do you have?”

Nila dropped her hand, and she sat back on her heels. “I've always been a little self-conscious of them, actually.”

“Why's that?”

She rubbed her arms sheepishly. “I thought they were scars or deformities. I knew Kata and Orion had them, but...” She looked up into his expectant stare. “I have... I have twenty-four.”

Hades blinked. “T- _Twenty-four_?” he exclaimed. He held up a hand as he stuttered, trying to stall while he processed the thought. “Wait... um... Kata said it had something to do with your name... or virtue or something?” He looked at her. “Your name... it means Hope, doesn't it? That would make you one of the highest Virtues there is... and the only one still confined to the Underworld.”

Nila looked up at him, confused. “I'm not confined. Nobody keeps me here.”

“Then why didn't you go to the surface when the Gate was open?”

“I don't remember. Almost everyone else remembers when it happened, but I don't. Maybe I was just too traumatized, and couldn't bring myself to escape when I had the chance. Or maybe I just didn't want to go.”

Hades shook his head. “That's it?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “I'm just a cook, your Majesty. If I was ever a virtue, like you and Kata are claiming, then I've certainly fallen a long way. I can't help those people. I can't help Prometheus, or absolve Pandora, or relieve Zeus' punishments.” She shook her head. “I can only do what I can do.” She smirked. “And right now, as long as I can give you hope, I think I'm doing pretty good.”

He could have said she was selfish, cruel, or unfeeling, that she wasn't looking at the big picture, but he knew none of those were true. And then her words hit him, and he smirked. “Thank you,” he murmured. “That means a lot to me. You... _You_ mean a lot to me.”

“Don't let Queen Persephone hear that. I heard the rumors about Minthe.”

Hades rolled his eyes. “Most are badly fabricated, I assure you. And Percy doesn't have a vengeful bone in her body.”

“So... you were seeing Minthe, though.”

“Yes. It carried over after I got married, and Persephone didn't care a fig. I'm sure she's had a lover or two, herself.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Don't tell her I told you, but the only reason we married was to thwart Demeter.”

Nila smiled. “Looks to me like all you did was piss her off.”

Hades bobbed his head. “That was certainly a bonus.” She laughed, and Hades felt the remainder of his depression melt away. “Hey, Nila?”

“Yes, my lord?”

Hades looked at the floor. “Do you... like me?” He flicked his eyes at her. He could make out surprise on her face, but her complexion was muted by the shadows.

Nila felt her cheeks and nose turn red. “I... um...”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot,” he said softly. “But the truth is... even though I'm no stranger to romantic entanglements, I don't think I've ever felt like someone wanted me as I am. And I thought... maybe you do.”

Nila considered him for a moment, fumbling for words and fighting to look like he was still in control of his emotions. Finally, the cook sighed and took his hand. “Lord Hades, I've never asked you for anything. So when I ask that you don't change to suit anyone, even me, I hope you'll take that as the only demand you ever meet.” She took his hand in both hers and bowed to press a kiss to the heavy black ring. Not a romantic gesture, but one of explicit loyalty and piety.

Hades reached down and lifted her gently by the shoulder. “There are so many days when I don't want to be a king,” he murmured. “You are a better friend than I deserve, and I...”

Nila hugged him, broke his train of thought into pieces and wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders. Hades finally reciprocated, drawing her in until her body was pressed against him. She felt so good, so warm and inviting. And for the first time in thousands of years, Hades, Lord of the Underworld, felt wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Euterpe is the muse of music, daughter of Mnemosyne, Titan goddess of memory.
> 
> *Mint was commonly used in ancient Greek funerary rites, and so it's still very common to use it rituals meant for Hades. He hates the smell and taste.
> 
> *It takes a LOT to kill (forced incarnation) a god, but make no mistake, it can be done. He has some pretty extreme longevity (he's about 4,000 years old during this arc of the story) but his mentality and his looks are that of someone around 30 (The only one who really LOOKS old is Geras).


	13. Q & A

Hey, we're back! While I was gone, I took the liberty of gathering a few questions from my offline readers and other guests to the site. Hope this covers everything. If not, shoot me a comment, and I'll add your question to the list!

**Vicki commented: Bacchus/ Dionysis is _blonde_? There are no blonde Greeks!**

Okay, so, this coming from someone who has visited/ lived in Greece at some point, for context's sake. The reply comes from **Erin:** blondes and redheads used to be a lot more prolific in the area. Alexander the Great was a redhead! So, while today the genetics of blonde Greeks might be more improbable, four thousand years ago that was a lot more likely!

**Elizabeth asks: What's your beef with Hecate?**

She threatened my child. I cast an empathy spell on her, which gives her a nasty case of a conscience and limits her desire to perform magic on people. Rather conveniently, I caught the flu soon after. Her comment was that being sick was my karma. Baby, if being under the weather for a week is my karma for putting the goddess of the crossroads in her place, _I'll take it._

**Khristan asks: How do the characters line up? How tall are they?**

OOh, I love this. I try to do character sketches all the time, and you can find a few of them on my deviant art site under username hotaruno.

Hades is 6'5", thin, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. He is by far the tallest character in this arc.

Nila is 5'4", average build, straight brown hair and green eyes.

Orion is 6'1", which was considered giant at the time, athletic, straight brown hair and hazel eyes.

Kata is 5'7", which is more average, but he is from further south (Egypt/ North Africa), so his skin is dark and his hair is black, but his eyes are aquamarine. He is thin, with prominent muscles.

Polaris is 6'3", average build, with very soft dishwater-blonde hair and neat facial hair.

Persephone/ Kore is 4'8", round, soft build, with red ringlet curls.

Bacchus/ Dionysus is 6'1", blonde, but otherwise looks a lot like his father.

Hedate is 5'5", busty, with large brown eyes and long, dark waves.

Hecate is 6', slim build, blonde, with blue eyes.

Let me know if I missed one.

**Sidney asks: What did Demeter do that was so bad?**

Okay, so let me be absolutely clear: I am not and will never demonize any of the gods. They are people, and people are complex and make mistakes. 

The story actually begins before Persephone was born. In some legends it is said that Demeter was one of Zeus' wives. For the sake of this story, however, I've tried to establish that this simply wasn't true. Demeter had wanted to be a sworn maiden like her older sister, Hestia. But Zeus raped her, thus removing her from consideration. Not only that, but he was apparently very possessive of his sister, and killed the one man she finally fell for. Their relationship is rocky at best. 

After Persephone was born, Demeter was a protective and demanding parent, and those of you who know how that feels probably understand what it felt like for Persephone to want to get out from under her mother. When she found her way into the Underworld, it was an escape! And Hades being the king of "leave me the fuck alone" understood why she wanted to get away. So the two of them came up with an agreement; Persephone could stay as long as she wanted, so long as neither of their roles changed.

Demeter, being unable to find her daughter, nearly went crazy with worry, and abandoned her duties as goddess of the harvest to search for her. Famine swept across Greece, and with it an unusually high mortality rate among the humans.

When Persephone heard about what was happening in her absence, she begged Hades for a solution. She couldn't live the life Demeter wanted for her, but if she didn't return, humanity would perish. Hades position was firm; that she could stay in his city for as long as she wanted, but he wanted nothing to do with Demeter (I don't know why). So the two of them came up with yet _another_ plan; Hades would take Persephone as his bride. He would have a queen to rule with him, their relationship needn't change, and Persephone would have a place to escape to when living with her mother became too much to bear.

All that was left to do... was consummate the marriage. 

**Templeton asks: Where do you get your information?**

Orphic hymns, Hesiod, Homer, Edith Hamilton, and many, many others.

While there is a LOT of research that goes into reconstructing this story, a lot of it comes from what you might call personal fantasy. I'm a fan of reincarnation theory and past-life regression, and if you were to ask me if I seriously believe these characters existed, I'd have to say yes, I do! Will I reveal who each of the characters are based upon? Absolutely not.

**Anonymous guest 1 asks: Will we meet any other deities?**

Yes! This arc of the story only really includes Greek entities, but further arcs will include deities and other beings from several different cultures!

**Kyle asks: Will this be a love story? And if so, wouldn't this be considered fan fiction?**

Spoiler alert: yes. Just not yet. And I never said it wasn't, and I never actually specified who I'm pairing up. But it's really hard to directly plagiarize ancient myth, especially since everyone seems to have a different version of it to tell. This is just my version. Or, if you really want to try this, you can ask the gods, themselves. Astraeus is particularly fun to hang around. Hades, on the other hand, is reticent and secretive. He doesn't get mad easily, but you probably won't get much information out of him.

**Jacob asks: Are you a witch?**

HAhahahaha. That's a very long story. I don't really have a defined answer for what I am. It's complicated, especially because I tend to believe in MOST of the things I can't see. I've been known to deal with metaphysical things on a deeply personal level.

**David asks: Weren't there three judges of the dead?**

There are NOW. They are Minos, Rhadamanthys, and Aeacus. There's a little bit of a spoiler going on to this, but I'll indulge you a little. The short version is that this story occurs before Minos and his THREE brothers were alive. But, since I'm a good host, I'll let you in on a little secret; I am actually going to write ALL of this. There's a reason there are three judges now, and Polaris is not one of them. The secret lies with Sarpedon. Wink-wink, have fun figuring that one out.

Let me know if y'all have any more questions! Until then, see you next week!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're back!
> 
> Hades makes a plan.

Hades kicked himself all the way back to his chambers. He had wanted more from Nila, and had denied himself. Zeus would not have hesitated, and the last thing Hades wanted was to be anything like his younger brother. He had done the right thing.

So why did he feel that awful wrenching sensation in his chest? It was familiar, like his panic attacks. He knew how they felt, how they always went, and how they always eventually went away, but this one wasn't like those before it. This one craved a remedy. Hades closed his eyes and went back to the feeling of her arms around him, his hands skirting the feathers at the base of her wings. She was so _warm_. He tried to replicate the feeling by folding his arms across his chest. That was better. But the feeling didn't last, and it wasn't enough just to hold himself together. He wanted to be healed, once and for all. He could feel his broken pieces being pulled back into place, and it felt... not just good, but _right_.

He growled and spun for the door. It was too late, now. He was finally desperate enough. It was time to go find Astraeus. He turned to call into the room. “Ameus,” he called.

His page stood at the ready. “S-sir?”

“Send the stables word to ready my chariot. And tell the kennel-keeper to release Kérberos.”

“Where should I direct him, your Highness?”

“Don't worry about that. He'll follow me.”

“Yes sir.”

Ameus dashed away to complete his orders, and Hades sighed. He really should tell someone he was leaving. He didn't trust Kata with overseeing anything more than his platoon, and he already knew Hedate would use his time away to her greatest advantage. That unfortunately left one person he could consistently count on, and he wasn't looking forward to that meeting. Still, he dutifully pushed himself onward, toward the main court.

The guards opened the doors for him before they were asked, and Hades took a deep breath. As usual, the building was full, almost to overflowing, and every soul and shade inside the doors turned to look at him. Hundreds of eyes... Hades clenched his fists, wishing to the Stars that Persephone or Hedate or Nila were here to support him. He'd done this thousands of times, and it never got easier.

The crowds of human shades parted before him, murmuring in awe and terror. Hades could feel the tangible despair in the room pressing in on him. He froze, halfway into the room, unable to take another step.

And then the crowds parted from ahead of him, revealing Polaris' great winged figure. “My lord?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

Hades held his head up. “I need to speak with you privately, please.” His voice was short, in an attempt to keep his panic from becoming understood.

Polaris just nodded. He placed a hand gently on Hades' shoulder and turned him back the way he had come in. “Perhaps somewhere else, then, your Majesty.” When they were outside, Polaris motioned the guards to close the doors, and motioned Hades to follow him to his chambers.

“I'm sorry for coming to you on such short notice,” Hades said. He was really apologizing for freezing up in the middle of court, but if Polaris noticed, he said nothing about it.

“What's this about, Lord Hades?”

Hades sighed. “Where do I start?” he mumbled. He laughed humorlessly. “I met someone.”

Polaris paused and looked at him. “What... context?” he asked hesitantly. “I'm sorry, there's a wide range of how I can take that.”

Hades rubbed his forehead. “That's just it, Polaris. I'm not sure of the context, myself. All I know for sure is that she's _important_ somehow.”

Polaris shook his head. “Oh my Stars, you are something else,” he grumbled. He opened the door to his chambers. “Get in here.” Hades obeyed, and Polaris quickly shut the door. “Quit talking in riddles and get on with it,” he growled.

Hades bristled at his tone, and then reminded himself that he didn't have time to bicker. “I'm leaving.”

“Dare I ask where you're going?”

“I'm visiting Astraeus.”

Polaris' eyes widened, and he slowly bobbed his head. “You weren't joking when you said it was important, were you?”

“This is also what I meant when I said I don't exactly have context for our relationship yet.”

“And you're relying on Astraeus for that?” Polaris asked. “Why couldn't you just find out for yourself?”

Hades scoffed. “What, like you?”

“Sure, like me. Why not?”

Hades stared at him.

Polaris narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Hades shook his head. “I'm sorry, I had no idea...”

“What, that I might have a family?” Polaris snapped. “News flash, your Highness, but I happen to have a life outside your court. And if you bothered to get to know me, you might discover I'm not limited to the ability to shatter your fragile ego.”

Hades folded his arms and allowed himself a moment to pout.

Polaris sighed and combed his fingers through his hair. “What did you actually come to me for?” he asked.

Hades ground his teeth together. This was not how he had wanted this meeting to go. Was this a bad idea? He quickly banished the ironically egotistical little voice that told him Hedate would be a better choice, and sighed. “I'm leaving you in charge while I'm gone,” he said in a rush. Oh, Stars, that left an awful taste in his mouth.

Polaris studied him for a moment, and then he too sighed. “I imagine you've already considered every other option,” he murmured. He rubbed his head. “Except, tell me why you need to see Astraeus again? Because of some woman?”

Hades shook his head. “You wouldn't understand.”

“Try me.”

Hades watched Polaris from under his furrowed brows. Against everything his ego was shouting at him, he pushed onward. “She's powerful.”

“How powerful?”

“I have no idea. Dangerously powerful.”

Polaris raised an eyebrow. “Is she part of your family? A god? A titan?”

“No.”

“What does she do that brought you to that conclusion?”

“I can't tell you.” The king shook his head. “I promised I wouldn't expose her. Suffice it to say it was a power for which she was held in captivity and used for profit.”

Polaris nodded slowly. “Again, there's a very broad spectrum for how I could take that.”

Hades shifted his weight in exasperation. “Okay, I think we're done here,” he said. “I gave you a perfectly acceptable reason for my leaving.”

Polaris conceded that point. “That's true, you did. Is there anything I need to do while you're gone?”

Hades rolled his eyes. “Can you keep General Kata out of the castle?”

Polaris considered him, but nodded a few seconds later. “That shouldn't be a problem. When will you be back?”

“Hopefully within the week.”

“Very well. I hope Astraeus gives you a good reading. I'll see you upon your return. Am I dismissed?”

With a wave of his hand, Hades produced a tall black scepter. He crossed the distance between them and held it out to Polaris. He waited until the winged judge reached back to accept the staff. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Polaris, king pro tempore, you are dismissed.”

Polaris bowed his head, felt Hades release his hold on the scepter, and when he raised his head again, the king was already closing the door behind him. The door shut, and Polaris shook his head. “Prick,” he grumbled under his breath. Then he sighed. “At least he's smart enough not to leave his children in charge.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Kérberos is Hades' dog. The common mistranslation is Cerberus. It was said that he has three heads, but for this story he just has three duties. More on this in the next chapter.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades panics, and is joined by his emotional support animal.

Hades flew out of the castle and down the grand staircase, and didn't stop running until he reached the tunnels. It was too much; there were _so many_ of them. The shadows would protect him. He stopped for breath just inside the mouth of the cave. Hades leaned heavily against the wall and tried to will his hands to stop shaking, and cursed when it didn't work. He sat down and dragged his fingers into his hair, covering his face and shutting the light out.

That's when he heard the slow, deep snuffling sound. He felt his hair move with the gentle push and pull of a warm breeze, and then the snuffle turned into a deep snort, and a gust of hot air hit the side of his body. A gigantic, damp, and leathery nose nudged his arm, and Hades flopped onto his side, still curled into himself in panic. The beast whined plaintively, and then yipped when Hades refused to respond.

“I'm fine,” Hades growled, voice muffled behind his hands.

Kérberos yipped again in protest and pawed the ground next to his master. Then he lay down and nudged Hades with his nose again, and dragged his tongue all the way up Hades' body.

Hades finally uncovered his face and groaned in disgust. “Ugh! Stars, you're going to get me all wet!” He tried to shake the trails of saliva off of his robes, but Kérberos put his nose right up against Hades' chest and gently tugged on the fabric with his front teeth. “All right, all right, I'm up.” He pushed himself into an upright position and rubbed the long, soft white fur to either side of the dog's wet nose. “You're too big to do that,” Hades mumbled.

Kérberos barely stuck his tongue out and dabbed Hades on the chin.

“I love you too.” The dog moaned, and Hades sighed. “You always know when I need a snuggle, don't you, Spot?” He pulled his power from his core and wound it around Kérberos' body. As he was, he filled the entire tunnel with his furry bulk, and they would never make it to the surface like that. A little magic would make the trip much easier. And just like so, Kérberos began to shrink.

Hades was tired when he was done. Even with magic to help him, Kérberos was still a very large dog, and towered over Hades when he put his paws on his master's shoulders. But this wasn't the time for that. Kérberos shook his floppy brown ears and licked his chops, and then crawled up to Hades and put his head in the king's lap.

Hades rubbed the dog's ears and bent to nuzzle his head. Already the panic was fading. He probably could have lain down and used the dog's back for a pillow, but the rumbling of wheels on the rock floor discouraged him from doing so.

The chariot pulled up beside Hades and the dog, and the king sighed and looked up.

The charioteer sprang out from behind the team of horses and ran up to the two of them. He was small and thin, like Ameus, but had black hair and brown eyes. “Your Majesty!” he cried. “Are you all right?”

“I'm fine.” Now he could safely say that was true. He pulled himself out from under Kérberos and stood up. “Is everything ready?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Excellent.” He climbed into the cab of the chariot and took up the reins. “If you can, please try to keep my absence quiet. If Hedate finds out I'm gone, she'll be even more trouble than usual.”

“I'll relay it to Ameus.”

“Thank you.” Hades urged his coursers onward, made a wide circle in front of the castle, and pointed his chariot toward the surface, with Kérberos running along behind him. It was only a day's drive to Astraeus' home, but Hades had planned for it to take longer. His cousin was definitely among the most hospitable of his family, and had been known to coax his visitors into extending their respective stays.

He had at least been to the Surface enough times to know when to put the mask over his face. The sun was blinding. After his coronation, he didn't leave the darkness for what must have been decades. His first visit after all those years left him paralyzed in the light of day. So did the next one, and the next. He remembered each of those times with a shot of self-disgust as he pulled the black linen swatch from his robes and wrapped it over the bridge of his nose and across both eyes. He could see through it. He just needed time to adjust.

The chariot burst into the sunlight with a rumble of galloping hooves. Hades steered the horses through the clearings between trees in the rocky soil. The landscape was different from when he had last been up here. The saplings that he had once nearly crushed under his wheels stood tall beside him now. How long had it been this time? And if it had been that long, surely the population had increased somewhat. And more people meant more problems. The last thing he needed was to cause a panic... or maybe have another panic attack.

He cringed and clenched his fists harder around the reins. This was not the time for self-loathing. He passed the right rein into his left hand and pulled his helmet from a wisp of his magic. He slid it on over his head, and the chariot, the horses, and Hades himself vanished into the sunlight.

He had all day to hate those little annoying things about himself. After all, it was a long drive to his cousin's place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Kérberos' name is Proto-Indo-European for "Spot." I guess back then that was an original name. Also, he looks more like a giant St. Bernard; white with brown spots.
> 
> *Magic/ Magick is most definitely going to be a thing in this story. For some reason Open Office won't let me spell it the way I want.
> 
> * Kérberos has only ONE head. BUT. He is head of three different aspects of the Underworld. He is the gatekeeper, keeping those who enter from leaving. He is the family pet (of course). And lastly, he is Hades' support animal. Hades has crippling social anxiety, and has panic attacks when there are too many people around.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hedate starts brewing trouble

Once again, Hedate was bored. She had been reading the same tiresome scrolls for hours, and her back and eyes hurt from the strain. Also, she was getting tired, and that was making her have to go back and read the same line of script over again.

She sat up and arched her back in a stretch. “Mother, please,” she begged. “Can't we practice casting?” She turned to look over her shoulder at Hecate, who was gazing thoughtfully into a bowl of water. “Or maybe do some spellweaving?” the girl suggested. “Or even go visit the mortals?” She groaned and stood up. “Or anything besides this nonsense.”

Hecate sighed and raised her head. “It's not nonsense, Hedate.” She turned to glare at her daughter. “You know very well I wrote those scrolls myself. That's what I used to bolster my studies when I was young.”

“You say that as if you were ever young,” Hedate grumbled.

Hecate chuckled and turned away from her scrying bowl. “A soul is immortal, love. Age doesn't matter.”

“Then why do I have to wait for some preordained age of knowledge?” Hedate protested. “What makes my consent invalid, or why wait to inherit a throne that's rightfully mine?”

“You're not ready,” Hecate said soothingly. “You're trying to do things and you don't yet have a firm grasp of the consequences.”

Hedate groaned. “Ugh, Mother, I'm not stupid.”

“Oh no, of that I'm absolutely sure,” her mother said with a nod. “But you're far too proud, and you act as if no one knows better than you.” She shook a finger at the younger woman. “That stubbornness will get you in trouble, and when you refuse to atone for your mistakes, you will find yourself alone and abandoned.”

Hedate looked shocked. There had to be someone who would always be by her side, and she knew exactly who that person was. “Hades would never!” the girl insisted. “He loves me!”

“Yes, and he is blinded by it.” The goddess of magic sighed. “For now, you can be grateful for it, but someday it will cost him, too. He won't be able to shield you forever, love.” She shrugged. “Do you honestly wonder why I make you study so hard? Why I make you pore over those dry, dull tomes on policy and law?”

“Because I have to be ready,” Hedate droned. “But it's not fair!”

“It's perfectly fair. Forcing someone to do your bidding with a spell or glamour isn't ruling; it's slavery. If you want to rule, then your subjects should be loyal; not by force, but because you are doing your job right. Even Hades went through a few years when he had to learn things the hard way. He could probably tell you some stories...” She sighed again. “When you do become queen, you might find yourself returning to these musty old scrolls.”

“Yes, but I'm _tired_!” the girl whined. Then she sighed. “And if I'm bored and tired, I'm not learning anything anyway. Isn't that what you always tell me?”

Her mother nodded. She did find herself saying that pretty often. “Well, what do you suggest?” She knew she was going to regret asking, but lesson days with her daughter never failed to be interesting, if a little on the dramatic side.

Hedate's eyes glittered when she smiled. Most gods had learned to fear that look. “Tell me about demons.”

A wave of dread washed over Hecate, and she fixed her eyes fiercely on her daughter. “Don't go that route, honey,” she said with a solemn shake of her head. “I don't deal in demons.”

The young nymph lovingly took her mother by the arm. “That doesn't mean you can't tell me!” she begged. “Please, mother? I need to know.”

Hecate shifted uncertainly. “Demons are not a thing to be trifled with, Hedate. They can't be controlled, and they will only cause darkness and suffering.”

The girl lowered her head. “You don't trust me.”

That was when the goddess of the Crossroads lost her patience. “Should I?” Hecate asked. “You flout the rules whenever it suits you. Do you wonder why I have to tutor you myself instead of with the other Furies?”

“No...”

“Because you think you're the best, and you can't stand when someone your age knows something you don't.” Hecate waved her arms exasperatedly. “And for some reason, that doesn't make you try harder. It doesn't make you compete. It makes you resentful, and then instead of bettering yourself, you try to belittle the person who has in any way exceeded you.” The older goddess shook her head. “You might have friends, Hedate, but you won't have classmates.” Hecate returned to her scrying bowl. “For everyone's sakes.”

“You don't even want me to have friends,” the girl wailed petulantly. “You don't want me to find love, ever!”

Hecate sometimes regretted being gentle with her offspring. She never struck the girl, and maybe this was one of the times when she should have. But what good would that have done? She turned around and gave Hedate a sorrowful look. “You're lucky to have Kata,” she said softly, “even if Hades doesn't care for him. He is very patient with you, all things considered. But if you mistreat him the way you do me, or your father...” She shook her head. “You will lose him, and you'll have no one to blame but yourself.” She pulled her arm out of her daughter's grip and hung her head. “I will not teach you demonology. You're simply not ready.”

Hedate's little hands clenched into fists. She _was_ ready, and she would _show_ them. She would show them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Little bitty spoiler: notice what Hecate called Kata? "Patient?" Remember what his Name means? Perhaps Kata is also a little more than what he seems.
> 
> *Everyone in the Underworld knows that Hades is very attached to his daughter, and that has made him the butt of several very old jokes/ conspiracy theories.
> 
> *A soul might be immortal, but learning and readiness are still crucial things to consider when vetting an heir to the throne. Right now, you can see her as spoiled and childish, and her pride gets in the way of her learning process, as well as simple, important things like apologies. 
> 
> Let me know if you can see where this is leading. ;)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades has his fortune told.

Astraeus' home was what Hades might have described as comfortable; not nearly as large as his castle, the two-story structure was fitted with windows and balconies that made it bright and open. And in the warm Mediterranean sun, the villa felt like it was home to the wind and light. And that wasn't far off, either; Astraeus had ten children, though most were seldom in his house. The youngest, however, stood on the front veranda, ready to greet Hades as he drove his chariot up the dirt road in front of the house.

She was a small-framed wisp of a girl, with long, pale blonde tresses and a sweet, innocent face. The setting sun glowed over her hair like a halo, and her smile seemed to brighten the effect.

Hades pulled off his helmet and visor, and the girl grinned and bowed to him. “Welcome, Lord Hades.”

In spite of his mood, seeing his cousin's little girl softened Hades' sour look. “Hello, Astraea.” He began climbing the shallow steps toward her. “Is your father at home?”

She nodded, and the last rays of the setting sun glinted off her pale blonde eyelashes. “He has been awaiting your arrival for some time, my lord.” She held out her hands to him. “It's good to see you.”

Hades took both her hands in his. “And you as well, sweet girl.”

She turned and slid her tiny hand into the bend of his arm, and began leading him up the front steps. “What troubles you?” she asked.

“Did Astraeus send you to ask me that?” Hades asked. “I'm not so sure you'd care to know the answer.”

Astraea tittered girlishly and patted his arm. “Don't be so sure, Lord Hades. When your sister, Demeter, came to us, who do you think it was who washed her feet and braided her hair?” She smiled up at him. “I may be an innocent, but it is well within my skill set to provide comfort.”

Hades harrumphed. “Yes, I'm sure Hestia has taught you well.” He glanced at her. “Unfortunately, little one, I think there may be very little you can do to comfort me today.”

“I hope that's not the case,” she murmured.

She led Hades into the villa, and into a wide, oval courtyard at the center of the structure. The floor was tiled with different colored stones in the design of a four-pointed star, and the room was skirted by tall alabaster columns that held up the second story of the building. There was no ceiling, and the evening was beginning to cast shadows into the strange room.

“Hades.”

The god of the Underworld looked at the comparatively small figure in the middle of the room. Astraeus' dominating feature wasn't his wings, but the unruly black curls that sprang from his head. He had trimmed his beard since Hades had seen him last, but that wasn't saying much; it still looked mildly unkempt. He was leaning into a large, heavy wooden table near the center of the room.

“I hear you've been expecting me, Astraeus,” Hades said.

Astraeus' blue eyes crinkled at the edges. He was older than Hades, and looked it. “Come in and rest yourself,” he said invitingly. “It's a long trip from the Underworld.”

“No offense, but I intend to return as soon as possible,” said Hades quickly. “I'd rather get to the point and be on my way.”

Astraeus nodded. “And you say you mean no offense,” he mumbled.

Hades sighed. “I know what you did for my sister, and I know your comforting, hospitable methods worked for her, but I'm afraid I'm not so easily consoled.”

His cousin raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Apparently you left her with the impression that you have some sort of anal block?”

“What?”

“You have a stick up your ass.”

Hades snickered. He had to give Astraeus credit where it was due; he adapted quickly to the needs of his clients. And sarcasm was what usually did it for Hades. “Perhaps,” he admitted.

Astraeus smiled. “Come in, Hades. You've spent all day on the road. One night in a decent bed won't make a difference.”

Hades had to acknowledge that was true. “What do you have for me, old man?”

Astraeus harrumphed and gestured to a few tools on the table; an astrolabe, a sextant, and an armillary sphere. “I took the liberty of drawing up your birth chart.” He dragged his fingers over the old wood as he slowly meandered around the edge of the table. “Tell me what's going on, and perhaps I can help.”

Hades swallowed. “There is a new influence in my life, and I need to determine what kind of influence it is.”

“You mean, 'what kind of influence _she_ is',” Astraeus corrected.

Hades' eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

Astraeus reached across the table and took a handful of grapes out of a ceramic bowl. “In my experience,” he said, popping a grape into his mouth, “one of the few things that can influence someone is a love interest; in your case, a woman.”

Hades shook his head. “But I've never...”

“Never been in love before?” his cousin asked, knowingly.

Hades sheepishly looked at the floor.

Astraeus chewed thoughtfully for a moment, and then ate another grape. “And yet you're married, have a son and two lovely daughters, one who might as well have taken over your heart.”

Hades shot his cousin a glare. “Watch your step, Astraeus,” he growled.

“Do you know why some dare to call you Clymenus?” the god of divination asked, unhindered by Hades' threatening tone.

Hades sighed. He had been the butt of this joke before. “Yes,” he murmured. He rubbed his arm in shame. “Because I favor my daughter over anyone else in my life... even my wife.”

Astraeus hummed and crossed the courtyard to stand in front of his younger cousin, and held out the bunch of grapes to Hades. “At least you don't bear that title with any pride.”

Hades slowly took a grape. “It's just a shame it bears such poor connotations,” he mumbled. “It's a great name.” He delicately bit the tiny fruit in half. It was perfectly sweet, and he hummed appreciatively. “Anyway, my daughter has little to do with my visit.”

“On the contrary,” Astraeus corrected. “Your daughter has more to do with your presence here than you understand.”

“I am _not_ in love with my daughter!” Hades snarled.

“I don't doubt that,” said Astraeus. “I'm saying she has a prominent role in your reading.”

Hades grudgingly accepted his cousin's soothing words and slipped the other half of the grape into his mouth. “And this love interest you insist I have in my life? Who would that be?”

Astraeus looked up at the skylight above them and hummed. He raised both hands above his head and spread his fingers so that all ten digits pointed in different directions. He twisted both hands round, as if cradling a heavenly globe, and Hades watched in awe as the heavens above them twisted under Astraeus' direction.

Suddenly, Astraeus deigned to answer Hades' question. “The last-born daughter of Prometheus,” he answered.

“Prometheus...” Hades breathed. It had been decades since he had heard that name. Another cousin, born from a different set of titans, and a titan in his own right. A brilliant inventor, and an infamous thief, if memory served. The lord of the Underworld narrowed his eyes at Astraeus. “His daughter?”

“Sculpted to please the eye, born to nourish the spirit.”

Prometheus was very much a loner. He had no bride, no illicit affairs. Before his incarceration in Tartarus, he was at least as much a recluse as Hades, if not more. But if Prometheus was known for anything, it was his artisanship. And he could have easily created a mate for himself. Or offspring, for that matter.

“Last-born,” Hades mumbled. He looked up at his cousin. “She was meant to be his finest creation, then. Something he might be able to keep...” He shook his head suddenly. “No, Prometheus was never greedy like that. She might have stayed of her own accord, but... he wouldn't have kept her for himself.” He sighed. “All of this was Zeus' doing.”

“All of what?” Astraeus asked.

Hades watched his cousin for a few seconds longer, and then sighed once more. “Zeus' last act before sending Pandora to the Surface was to sell Hope, Prometheus' ultimate creation, into slavery.”

Astraeus dropped his hands. “You're kidding.”

Hades shook his head. “She was trafficked to the Underworld, where her brother found her and freed her.”

His cousin tapped his chin thoughtfully. Then he shrugged. “Well, so much for the jar theory.”

“You're taking this in stride,” Hades mumbled suspiciously.

Astraeus shrugged. “It's not my business. Zeus will do as he does, and you will do as you do, and the stars will do what they do.” He held up his hands. “I'm just their messenger.”

“Will he _ever_ get what's coming to him?” Hades asked exasperatedly.

“It'll take a few millennia, but he'll live to regret everything he's put them through.” Astraeus meandered slowly back to the table. “If that's who you think this is, then she's a powerful influence indeed.” He gave Hades a thumbs up. “And a very fortunate find! Kudos, cousin!”

Hades rubbed his forehead. “Astraeus, it hasn't even _happened_ yet!”

Astraeus cringed. “Oops.” He chuckled nervously. “Well, take courage, then, Hades. And get that stick out of your ass while you're at it. Looks like that lady has some things to teach you.”

Hades growled impatiently, and then threw up his hands.

“What's the matter with you?” Astraeus asked.

“Oh, Stars, if you only knew,” Hades griped. He rubbed his forehead again. It was starting to ache. He sighed. “I hate my job, I hate people and I deal with them every day, I have crippling social anxiety, and there are days when I would gladly switch places with Prometheus, if just for the _solitude_!” He took a breath and closed his eyes. “I'm so tired, Astraeus.” He covered his face with both hands.

A pair of tiny white hands slid into the bend of his arm, and Hades looked down at Astraea, smiling at him. “Perhaps, Lord Hades,” she suggested, “she will provide you with the hope you so desperately need to carry on.” She pulled him deeper into the courtyard and positioned him in front of the carved wooden chair in front of her father's table. Hades let himself down into the seat with a heavy sigh. The young girl ran her hand up his arm and rested her palms on the crests of his shoulders. He had half a notion to push her away, but for some reason his resistance had left him.

Astraeus leaned against the table. “She's right, Hades,” he said. “And if my reading is right, and they usually are, you're going to need her.”

Hades' breath hitched as Astraea pulled her cool fingers through his hair. Knowing her, it was an innocent gesture, meant to comfort him, but it felt wrong.

He reached up and took Astraea by the wrist. “Stop.”

“I mustn't, my lord.”

“Why?”

“In a moment, you will need me.”

He held onto her arm for just a moment longer, and when he released her, she began combing her fingers through his dark waves again. It felt good, and he wouldn't deny it, but he knew in his heart that his feelings were anything but innocent. If it were Nila, he wouldn't have tried to stop her.

Astraeus harrumphed. “You're so uptight,” he grumbled. “Why wouldn't you let her comfort you?” When Hades was silent, he went on. “Perhaps you desire another source of comfort?”

“You've made your point,” Hades sighed. “Go on.”

The god of divination nodded and raised his hands again. The heavens twisted around with the motions of his hands, and Hades tilted his head back to watch. Astraea pulled him back, and his skull came to rest on the hard surface of her flat chest. Her arms came around his neck and folded gently across his collarbones, and Hades reached up to grasp both her hands. He would need her, wouldn't he? No matter where it came from, he would need comforting after this.

The heavens came to rest above them, and Astraeus paused, hands held high. “You will suffer three great losses,” he intoned sadly.

Hades adjusted his grip on Astraea's hands. “What will I lose?” he asked uncertainly.

Astraeus turned to gaze at a new constellation. “You will lose your purpose.”

Hades' eyes immediately went to his black skull signet ring. It was what designated him as the most responsible of the three brothers; a gift from Ouranos, his grandfather. A priceless artifact, more powerful than any other object he owned. He was the keeper; it was his entire purpose. And he was being told he would forfeit it.

“You will lose your future.”

His future? Hades was a student of the past. His future would have to mean one of his children. And he knew which one. His eyes went wide. “No,” he whispered. “Please, not her.”

Astraeus shook his head. “I am a messenger, Hades. I can not change the message being relayed to me.”

The lord of the Underworld took a deep breath, but his body had begun to tremble. Tears blurred his vision, and he blinked and let them spill over onto his cheeks. “What else?” he choked.

Astraeus released the heavens, and they spun back to the familiar night sky. He lowered his gaze to Hades, and shook his head sadly. “Your hope.” It was as if he knew that speaking it would bring it into effect.

Hades shook his head. “No...” He looked up. “No, that can't be possible.”

Astraeus shook his head. “I'm sorry, Hades.”

Hades stood up so quickly he broke out of Astraea's embrace. “She's not _mine_!” he insisted. “I _can't_ lose her!”

Astraeus took a step toward him. “Hades...”

“No!” Hades stepped backward and nearly tripped over the chair. His breathing had grown ragged and panicked. “No, she can't die! They can't!”

Astraeus glanced off into the dark building and let out a shout. “Eos! Help!” Then he ran around the edge of the table toward his cousin.

Astraea grabbed Hades' arm, but he shook her off forcefully, making her take a step back. “No!” he shouted. He turned and looked at her father. “How _could _you?”

“Hades, this is not my doing,” the winged god cried. “I can't be held responsible for what I read in the stars!” He reached out and grabbed Hades by the sleeve.

“No!” Hades tried to shake him off, but only succeeded in getting his cousin twisted up in his robes. He jerked backward, pulling Astraeus into him.

The god of dusk wrapped his arms tightly around his cousin. “Astraea, help me subdue him!”

The small girl caught hold of Hades' other arm and pressed herself to him, pinning the limb to his side. “I have him, father!”

Hades sank to the floor under their combined weight. He let out a panicked scream, and then began to weep deep, heaving sobs that echoed into the house.

From the darkness, Astraeus' wife appeared, carrying an oil lamp. She was blonde, like their daughter, and dressed in the same pristine white robes. When she saw the pile of bodies, she ran towards them. “Astraeus, what did you do?” she cried.

Astraeus gently rubbed Hades' back. “I read his future.”

Eos seemed to understand what this meant. “Oh, Hades...” She knelt before the god of the Underworld, and set the lamp on the floor. “You mustn't give up, Lord Hades,” she murmured. She took his face in both hands and rubbed the tears out from beneath his eyes. “The one thing I've learned from Astraeus' readings is that sometimes there's nothing one can do except keep breathing.”

“I don't want to,” Hades wept. “I don't want... I can't.”

“I know,” Eos said soothingly. She wrapped her arms around his back. “I know. Just keep breathing.”

Hades gasped and buried his face in her shoulder.

Eos pressed his head to her chest and took a deep breath. The hollow whoosh of air and the slow beat of her pulse seemed to be the only thing during this visit that soothed him. “Just keep breathing.”

“Keep breathing,” Hades repeated. His heart rate was beginning to slow. His hope gone, his convictions shattered, he let the muscles in his back and arms relax, and allowed the family of soothsayers to curl up against him on the floor. “All I can do is keep breathing.”*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Clymenus has a dual meaning here. It means "greatness," or "magnificence." There's a tragic story about a king of Argos named Clymenus who fell in love with his daughter, and insisted upon marrying her, spiting all suitors. She retaliated by killing either her favored brother or her firstborn, depending on the story. And in some instances it is used as Hades' surname. He doesn't appreciate the humor.
> 
> * Prometheus was thought to have been a trickster deity like Loki, from Norse mythology. The story goes that he stole fire from Zeus to give to the humans; the culmination of a long series of jabs between him and the king of the gods. It ended with Prometheus' incarceration in Tartarus and the capture of his final creation, an entity known in Greek as Elpis (hope) in Pandora's jar. Here, however, the truth is a little bit more complicated.
> 
> *Nila obviously does not use the Greek translation of her Name; rather, she uses a somewhat simplified version of her Astral Name, much like Kata and Orion.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orion comforts his sister after her night terrors.

Nila woke with a yelp. The covers were constricting her movement, and she kicked them away with a squeal. She threw the wad of bedclothes over the side of her little bed and scuttled backward into the corner by the head of the bed. The sound of feet on the stairs outside her apartment made her cry out again, and she bolted from the bed. No way out. There was no other way out.

The door slammed open, and a tall black shadow burst into the one-room studio.

Nila screamed, and then the thing reached out and grabbed her. “No!” she shrieked. “Don't take him! Please! Don't hurt us!”

“Nila, wake up!” A strong, frightened man's voice.

She paused. The thing knew her name. She looked up into the faint twinkle of a pair of very human eyes. She gasped, and the iron hands around her arms softened. “Orion?”

“Yeah, it's me.”

She sank against her brother's chest. “I'm sorry,” she sobbed. “I'm sorry I woke you up. I didn't mean to.”

Orion wrapped his arms around her and shushed her. “It's okay. It was just a nightmare.” He swayed gently with her, like he was rocking a child. “Want me to make some tea?” he asked. “Then we can talk about it, if you want.”

She shook her head. “I don't know... I can't remember much.”

Her brother pushed her out to arm's length. “Did you get something back?” he asked. “Ever since you met Hades, your recollection has improved.”

Nila wiped her eyes. “Yeah, well, it sucks that I remember it when I'm sleeping. I just wake up in the middle of... whatever that was.”

“What was it?”

She was quiet for a moment while she thought. “Do you remember our father?” she asked.

Orion sighed and released his sister, and bent to pick the blanket up off the floor. “No,” he said, though there was a note of hope in his voice. “Why? Did you remember something?”

Nila shook her head, though Orion couldn't possibly have seen it in the dark. “I don't know. It was all so sudden... I felt like someone just broke down my door...”

“Like I just did?” Orion asked.

Nila relaxed, and let out a slightly nervous chuckle. “Yeah, kind of.”

He sat down on the bed. “Sorry.”

“It's okay.” She smiled and sat down next to him. “No, I felt like... I had something before... before _this_.”

“Something? Like what?” Orion turned his head to look at her silhouette. “Like a family?”

Nila shook her head. “I don't know. Maybe?” She rubbed her head. “I remember a man, but I don't remember children.”

“A man?” Orion asked. “We weren't hardly old enough to know love when we came Down here. There's no way you could've had a lover.”

She shook her head. “Maybe you're right. But I remember I cared for him, and someone...” She choked on the thought. “Someone took him away.” A sharp pang in her crown made her cry out and clutch her hands to her head.

“Nila?” Orion asked. But all he heard was the sound of her crying in the darkness. He wrapped her up in a big hug again and stroked her long, soft hair. “It's all right...”

“No,” she whimpered. “No, it's gone. I can't remember...” She let out a quiet sob into his shoulder. “I want him back, and I don't even remember him.”

“Aw, sis...” Orion tried to pry his sister's hand away from her head, but she wriggled her hand out of his grip and dug her fingers further into her hair.

“It hurts,” she moaned.

“Okay,” Orion said soothingly. He gently probed his fingers around on the top of her head. “Well, you're not bleeding. We can get Kata to look at it first thing in the morning. How about that?”

“Okay,” she breathed.

“All right, lie down,” Orion directed gently. “I'll stay up here tonight.” He crawled up in the tiny bed beside his sister and pulled the blanket up over his feet.

“You don't mind?”

“Hey, shut up,” he grumbled. “This is what brothers are supposed to do.” He lay down and stretched his arm out and beckoned her to lie down.

Nila lay her head down on his arm, but the inner quietude didn't come to her right away. “Orion?”

He hummed in response.

“What if... I'm not remembering our father?”

“What?”

“What if I really am remembering someone I... someone I loved, maybe?”

“Okay,” Orion sighed, “so what?”

Where was she going with that thought, exactly? That conflicted feeling that came with these memories... Was that _shame_? “Wh-what would Lord Hades think?” she stammered softly.

He smirked. “He'd probably say you have a vivid imagination, and you dreamed up a beloved character in the middle of a very bad dream.”

Nila considered this. “Well, that's not entirely untrue, I guess.” She huddled closer to her brother's chest.

Orion shifted his head on the one pillow they shared. “If you make a move on me, though, I'm going to shove you off the bed.”

Nila sputtered and started giggling. “Even if I'm asleep?”

“Even if you're asleep.”

“Duly noted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * In Ancient Greece, and especially in a ludus or gymnasium, the nude male figure was a common sight. Bodies were considered works of art to be appreciated, masterpieces to be honed and perfected. Clothing was usually sparse anyway, due to the warm, humid climate. I didn't bother depicting Orion's state of dress here, so feel free to use your imaginations. Traditionally, men would use their outer clothing and cloaks as bed linens, so it wouldn't be surprising if Orion was naked.
> 
> Nila, on the other hand, would likely wear a breast band and the ancient equivalent of thong underwear. Women might have been painted or depicted in sculpture as nude, but seeing the naked female body in a public setting was a much less frequent occurrence.
> 
> All this explains why, even if Orion is naked, Nila doesn't make a big deal of it, and even so there is no sexual intent between them. Because Orion is an ADULT and is RESPECTFUL of his sister, nudity has nothing to do with it.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades has an enlightening conversation with his hostess

Hades woke from a fitful sleep just before dawn. It had been awhile since he really had a decent night's sleep, but that last night was worse than usual. Thankfully he hadn't dreamed, but the darkness behind his eyelids pressed in on him, making him feel oddly claustrophobic. This must be what Nila feels like when she gets stuck in the cupboard, he thought absently.

Nila. In spite of Astraeus' reading, the thought of her still created a flicker of warmth in his chest. So did Hedate, when he thought of her. They weren't gone yet. He had to force himself to realize that. The hopelessness could creep in on him with time, but as long as they were still alive, maybe he could put off that dreadful feeling of mortality.

He sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Perhaps it was time to leave. Just as he thought it, a gentle tapping caught his attention.

“Hades?” came Eos' soft voice through the door. “Are you awake?”

Hades paused. If he didn't answer, maybe she would go away. He rubbed his head and dismissed the thought. “I'm awake,” he replied.

Eos opened the door and peered in. “May I come in?”

Hades blinked at the question. “It's your house.”

Astraeus' wife nudged the door open, and that's when Hades finally saw the tray she was carrying. It was a small breakfast of fruit, olives, cured meats and cheeses. “I'm afraid I'm not much of a cook,” she said apologetically. “But the market had some excellent goods this morning.” She set the tray down on the table next to the bed.

“You've already been to the market?” Hades asked. Then he shook his head. Of _course_ the goddess of the dawn would already be up and busy by daybreak.

Eos chuckled at him. “Four thousand years, Hades, and you still don't have everyone's habits memorized.”

Hades rubbed his face. “It would help if I gave a damn about people.”

She nodded. “That tends to help, yes.” She crossed the room to a large bronze basin, and proceeded to move several blocks of fragrant salt from a nearby basket into the tub. “Don't mind me now,” she said. “I'll have some water drawn for you, and you can have a nice bath before you return home.”

Oh no, not this. Hades desperately looked around for his clothes. His eyes found his robes at the foot of the bed and he snatched them up and began wrapping them about his body. “Please, Eos, you don't have to go to all the trouble.”

Eos looked up at him. “What trouble?” she asked.

Hades' face went pink.

The goddess slowly nodded her understanding. “I see my reputation hasn't faded.”

Hades looked away. “I'm sorry, Eos. It's not you. Not really.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asked. She raised herself to her full height. She was a good deal taller than Nila, but shorter than Hecate, and had the same ephemeral glow she had passed down to Astraea.

“I'm sure,” Hades nodded. “You and your family have been very kind to me, and I feel I should mention that you're an attractive woman, but...” He shook his head. “I... I can't.”

Eos hummed, and then sighed and wiped her hands on her dress. “Your lovers have a nasty habit of playing with your heart. And, well... I suppose there's a reason I had ten children.” She nodded. “I understand. And you being the mystery that you are, you expect that I, like many women, might be fascinated with you.”

“That'd be the gist of it, yes.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Well,” she sighed, “I suppose I could be flattered. You've at least told me I'm attractive.” She smirked.

Hades rolled his eyes and slowly resumed wrapping his robes around him. “I'm surprised I didn't offend you.”

She snorted. “Like you'd care.”

“Hey, I'm a guest here. I don't need to wear out any future welcome I might have.”

Eos chuckled. “Do you want the bath or not?” she asked. “Either way, I'm about to leave you to your devices.”

Hades seemed surprised. “Oh. Well...” He glanced at the tray of food. “In that case, I think the breakfast you brought me will suffice.”

“Very well.” She smiled at him and made her way to back to the door. “Astraea will see you out when you're done. Safe travels.”

“You too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Eos has a reputation as a bit of a loose lover with a healthy sexual appetite. She and Astraeus had ten offspring: the five astra planetas or "wandering stars," i.e., the visible planets; the four anemoi or "directional winds," and the youngest, Astraea. There are other stories of her abducting and holding different men for her personal pleasure, perhaps caused by a curse from Aphrodite.
> 
> * As of the current timeline in this story, however, none of those legends have yet occurred. Hades is somewhere in the ballpark of four thousand years old here, which would put the current year somewhere around 2,000 BCE.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades hurries home, and makes a decision that might jeopardize his friendship.

The drive home was a blur. Hades had a lot to consider on the way, and that kept him from being too terribly preoccupied with his agoraphobia. Eos was a lovely hostess, he reflected, and if he had been anything like Zeus, he might have let her draw that bath for him. Zeus was a good deal less delicate with his advances than Hades was, though, and would likely have requested that the dawn goddess join him in the bath.

Hades shuddered at the thought. He was at least glad he didn't emulate Zeus in that regard. Eos was kind, and pretty in her own way, but there were several too many complications for Hades to desire figuratively or literally getting into bed with her. First and foremost, she was a married woman, and the last thing Hades needed was to make an enemy of Astraeus. Secondly, she wasn't as close as his other siblings, but she was still family. And then there was the tertiary matter of her being a mother. Hades didn't _mind_ that so much as he was well aware of just how fertile she had proven in the past. No need for more of his offspring running around.

But there was one thing about Eos that made him long for more; her hospitality. She reminded him, in small ways, of Nila. And that only made him want to return home all the faster.

But before he could consent to giving his heart to someone new, there was something he desperately needed to know.

He arrived back at the castle just as the guard was changing. Night was coming on, and the staff were getting ready to leave for the evening. Hades drove his chariot right up to the stables and shoved the reins into the hands of one of the stable boys before he dashed off toward the kitchens. He didn't know where the head cook lived, so he had to catch her before she left the grounds.

The kitchens were empty. Hades cursed under his breath, and then he heard the loud click of a lock from the opposite end of the room. He sprinted across the room and unlocked the door again and threw it open.

Sure enough, Nila stood on the other side, key in hand. She squealed and jumped backward at his sudden appearance. A few steps away, Orion spun around and put a hand on his sword. But when the moment passed, Orion snapped to attention.

“Your Majesty!”

Hades raised a hand at him. “At ease,” he said breathlessly. He looked at Nila. “I need to talk to you.”

Nila rubbed her chest and studied him as he stood there in the doorway. He was sweating and breathing hard, and his robes were a tangled mess. She narrowed her eyes at him. He wouldn't have run to meet her if it wasn't important, would he?

She turned and looked at her brother. “You go on ahead,” she said. She glanced at Hades for confirmation that this was what he wanted.

He just nodded.

Orion flicked his eyes up at Hades. He knew the look of a desperate man; he had fought a few of them in his short time on this planet. He had been able to turn away unfavorable suitors for his sister before, but he had a dozen different reasons he wouldn't want to pit himself against Hades. Especially since he had the choice. “Will you be okay?” he asked his sister.

She looked at him and gave him a soft smile. “I'll be all right.”

“Okay.” Orion turned around. “See you at home.” He began the slow walk across the castle grounds, but turned and looked over his shoulder once to make sure Nila really was all right.

Hades sighed and leaned against the door frame to catch his breath.

Nila sighed. “Stars, you scared me!” she scolded.

“I'm sorry,” Hades breathed. “I needed to catch you before you left.”

Nila shook her head. “Couldn't it have waited until morning?” she asked.

“No.” Hades stood up again. “I might have waited if this were work- related, but...” He stopped to breathe. “I'm sorry, but this is personal.”

The cook's eyebrows folded together in worry. “Have I done something wrong?” she asked.

Hades waved a hand at her. “No, Nila, it's nothing like that.” He focused his eyes on her more intently. “What is with that paranoia of yours?” Nila looked away, and Hades cursed under his breath again. “I'm sorry, that was tactless.”

Nila shook her head. “No, that's... that's a fair question, I think.” She looked at him. “You have every right to know all the things that made me this way, but...” She shook her head again. “I'm sorry, your Majesty. My... my memory is a little fuzzy.”

Hades slowly reached out and slid his hand into hers. “Trauma will do that to a person.”

She looked down at their hands, but didn't pull away. His skin was warm, and the tip of his thumb explored the hills and valleys of each of her knuckles. She reciprocated, delicately sliding her own thumb along the length of his fingers. “So... so what do I do?” she asked.

Hades felt that cold inside him melt a little farther. He was holding hands with her, and she wasn't trying to get away! The little thought made him smile. Astraeus' prediction nagged at the back of his mind, but for right now, he could enjoy this. He tugged gently on her hand. “Come with me,” he said. “I might just have an idea.”

He led her through the castle. Nila had never seen most of the place, and took in a gasp of awe at the main hall. The domed room was entirely built from white marble, lined with columns, with a long stripe of vibrant red carpet leading from the front entrance and up a short flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs sat two great stone chairs.

“You've never seen the throne room?” Hades asked softly. His low voice echoed even at that volume.

“N-no,” Nila said, glancing up at him. “I don't think so. I mean...” She looked up at the ceiling. “It's beautiful, but... I don't recognize it.”

“How long have you worked here?” Hades asked.

“Uh...” Nila looked at her feet and smiled shyly. “Going on ten years now.”

Hades harrumphed. “I really should have met you sooner, then.” He nodded his head in the direction of the entryway. “Come on.”

She followed him a few steps into the room, and stopped when she reached the carpet.

Hades turned and looked at her. “What is it?” he asked.

Nila looked at her feet again. “I'm barefoot.”

Hades snorted, and then began laughing.

“What?” Nila asked.

It took the king a few more seconds to stop laughing. “Sorry,” he finally sighed. “I haven't laughed like that in awhile.” He chuckled and stooped down, and right there in front of Nila slipped his sandals off his feet and flexed his toes in the shag. “You've never stood on a carpet before?” he asked.

Nila cautiously stepped onto the rug, and then flicked her eyes up at him with a delighted grin on her face. “It's soft!”

Hades snickered again. “As it should be: it came all the way from Assyria. You've spent too long on the stone floors in my kitchens.”

Nila nodded. “That's probably true.”

The king of the Underworld held out his hand. “Come, Nila. I might act otherwise, but we really haven't got all night.” She took his hand, and he pulled her a bit closer and drew a swatch of black cloth from out of his robes.

Nila drew back. “What's that for?” she asked.

“It's a blindfold,” Hades said simply.

“But... isn't it nighttime?” Nila asked.

Hades smiled. “It is. It's not the surface I'm worried about. We're not traveling by chariot, and fast-travel is... well, very bright. It takes several trips to get used to it.” He delicately took the blindfold and held it up to her face. “This is the same visor I use when I go to the surface. You should be able to see through it, if a bit more dimly.”

“Okay.”

She allowed him to wrap the cloth over her eyes, but he paused. “I don't want to tangle up your hair.”

Nila sighed. “Oh, don't worry about it. It's already tangled.”

Hades was as gentle as he could be in tying the cloth behind her head. The short ends of her hair tickled his hands. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked. That was when he noticed how close he was to her. Her cheeks sloped delicately into a pair of full lips. What did she taste like? How might her mouth form against his? He could have leaned in a little farther and sated his curiosity, but...

Hades stood up and cleared his throat. “Are you ready?”

Nila nodded. “Yes.”

Hades lifted an arm over her shoulders, carefully avoiding her wings. “Hang on to me, and don't look back.”

Nila curled herself into him, and dug her fingers into the back of his robe. “Not that I'll be able to, but why?”

Hades sighed. “When we're fast-traveling, you have to look where you want to go. If one of us looks back, it affects the direction of the travel charm, and we'll be separated. And we'll be traveling through solid matter, so that means you could get lost, or even get hurt.”

“Have you ever been hurt?”

“Not seriously. But I've definitely gotten lost.” He reached across his body and took her other hand. “Hold on tight. It won't take long, I promise.”

The shift was abrupt and breathtaking. Nila inhaled as the entire area brightened. Hades seemed to be standing still while the space around them rocketed past, rock and boulder streaking by in shades of gray and white. “It looks like fire,” Nila whispered.

Hades smirked, and wished he could see the amazement glittering in her eyes. But he was grateful at least to have his arm around her, his hand resting on her shoulder. He could have gotten used to the way her body curled against him. He had to make it last. He had to enjoy it while he still could.

All too soon, the trip was over, and darkness fell over them again. Nila released Hades' hand and pulled the blindfold off her eyes. It was moon-bright, and the dim light shone on a small clearing. The ground was rocky and split up with tufts of coarse grass, and on the edge of the clearing was a sheer twenty-foot rock wall.

“Where are we?” Nila asked. She took a few slow steps away from the king and felt his hand slip from her shoulders.

“This is where you were born,” Hades answered softly.

Nila slowly glanced over her shoulder at him. “Where I was... born?” She turned to look at the rock face. It wasn't a cliff, after all; or, not _just_ a cliff. In the center of the wall, mostly hidden in the shadows, was a door. She looked at Hades for confirmation, and saw him nod. “You knew my... our father?”

Hades took a step toward her. “I know him.”

“He's still alive?” Nila's voice cracked. She spun and dashed across the clearing, and shoved the door open. “Father!” she cried into the open space.

There was no answer. The interior was darker than outside, with a single window overlooking a tiny studio not unlike her own apartment. The room was carefully hollowed out, and would have been neat except for the ancient signs of struggle. A work bench was overturned, the old ashes from the fireplace scattered across the floor, the meager furniture broken.

“He's not here,” Hades informed her. He stepped through the door frame behind her. “Hasn't been for almost twenty years.”

She looked at him. “Where is he?”

Hades sighed. “In Tartarus.”

“What? Why?”

The king rolled his eyes. “It was claimed that he stole from Zeus.”

Nila was quiet for a few moments. She turned and took the room in slowly, and as she did, the place seemed to brighten, as if sunlight were streaming through the tiny workshop window. She turned to face the window, her back to the fireplace, and stood very still.

She was naked, and the man in front of her had her face in one hand. He was broader and more muscular than Hades, but a hand shorter. His face was rounder, with a stronger jaw and cleft chin, and his hair was a mess of coal black curls that seemed to smolder in the sunlight. His eyes were the same clear, icy blue as Hades', and he was staring at her with such intense focus that Nila started wondering what he was looking at. He reached down to scrape his tool across the edge of a cup, and reached up to start working again. He was _sculpting _her.

His eyes focused on hers, and he smirked. “You're awake.”

She felt her lips part, but what came out felt foreign and strange. _Who are you?_

“I'm Prometheus,” he said, as if he had understood her gibberish.

_Forethought?_ She asked.

He cocked his head. “Sort of?” he said. “I invent things.”

_Like me?_

Prometheus shook his head. “I built your body. Your soul came from... uh... somewhere else.”

_Soul. What is this thing?_

“Well, for our purposes, it's how you'll be able to operate your body. A power source.” He put down his tool and gently smoothed the spot he had been working on with the pad of his thumb. “Do you have a name?” he asked.

She paused. A name. She had been called so many things. But only one thing really fit. _Hope._

Prometheus hummed and dusted his hands off. “Well, _somebody's_ got really high expectations for you, don't they?” He chuckled. “Oh, don't mind me. I have a weird sense of humor.”

She smiled. _So does That Which Is._

Prometheus laughed. “I bet He does.” He picked up a blanket, flapped it out, and tossed it around her shoulders. “Your name sounds like Nila.”

She studied him. “N... Nila.”

“Right. And my name sounds like...”

“Prometheus.” Nila snapped back to the present. The workshop was dark, and cold without its cozy fire.

“Yes,” the warm, low voice said from the corner. She turned and looked at Hades. He was towering and gaunt by comparison, and with his dark clothes and hair he seemed to melt into the shadows. “He was your father.”

Nila shook her head. “No,” she said softly. “Not really.”

“You remember?” Hades asked.

Nila looked around at the workshop again. An overturned couch where she had caught Prometheus napping. His broken tools and brushes scattered on the floor. “Some,” she answered softly.

“If not your father, then who was he to you?” Hades asked.

Nila flicked her eyes up at Hades. For a brief instant, she remembered Prometheus smiling when she made one of his anemones bloom, his thick fingers plucking the deep red flower and weaving it into her hair. “He was my maker,” she answered. “My teacher.” She felt her eyes well up with tears.

“Did you...” His voice sounded frightened. “Did you love him?”

Nila let out a shaky sigh. She could still feel Prometheus' sure and gentle touch, his closeness, his warmth. She couldn't remember being intimate in any way with him, but she remembered him fighting for her, begging her to run away before they broke down the door. How could she tell Hades that everything Prometheus ever did or said was out of love? He lived and breathed affection, and passion was in everything he created. He had loved her, beyond any doubt. But... had she loved him?

“I don't know,” she whispered. The tears ran down her face, and she dropped to her knees. “I don't know... I don't...”

Hades dove to catch her. “Nila!”

She held both hands up in front of her, and Hades stopped. “Why did you bring me here?” she asked tearfully.

Hades thought about his answer. “I thought if I brought you here, you might get some of your memories back.”

“Why?” she asked. “To what end?”

Hades clenched his jaw, and then looked at the floor between them. “I wanted to know what your relationship with him was.”

“Why?”

Hades didn't answer. But perhaps his silence was enough.

Nila let out a deep, quiet sob. “What do you want from me?” she asked.

He let her weep for a few moments. “I'm not sure you could give me what I want.” He sighed. “This was a bad idea,” he mumbled. “I'm... truly sorry for putting you through this.” He looked up at her. “Do you want me to take you home?”

Nila nodded and rubbed her eyes. She was whimpering, and that made Hades feel worse.

“I wish I could make this easier,” he whispered. “I hope you know I never meant to hurt you.” He sighed. “I'm so sorry.” He slowly rose up on his knees and wrapped his arm around her. “Just close your eyes,” he said softly. He extended his power, draping it over her like a weighted blanket, and she sank into him, leaning her head on his chest. “You're exhausted.”

Nila hummed. “Lord... Hades?” she murmured weakly.

He let his power up enough for her to talk. “Yes?”

“You... you're not like them... are you?” she asked.

“Them?” Hades asked.

Nila reached up and pulled a section of her hair aside. There, beneath her dark tresses, was a scar about three inches long; one Kata must not have known about, or he would have healed it. Someone had hit her, hard. She must have gotten it when she was captured. “The ones... who took my memory.”

Hades suddenly felt very cold. But then Nila dropped her hand and wrapped her fingers in the hem of his robe, and pulled her legs in closer. If she wasn't asleep yet, she wasn't far off. Hades reached out and gathered her to him, and lifted her small body into his arms before slowly rising from the floor. “I really hope not, Nila,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Our setting is circa 2000 BCE, and what is now modern-day Iran is called Assyria.
> 
> * Metaphysical fast-travel is light speed, and is relatively easy for souls to use, if they just know how. However, it is based upon the need to know where one is going. The most famous example of a fast-travel mishap is the tragedy of Orpheus and Euridice. Hades never tricked Orpheus, and the lord of the Underworld necessarily had to travel with the couple for the charm to work; he was there when Orpheus was separated from his wife. It was tragic, and it all really was an accident, but it was Orpheus' fault, not Hades'.
> 
> *Prometheus' name does actually mean "forethought!" That being said, there's also "hindsight;" Epimetheus, his brother, who betrayed Prometheus' location to Zeus.
> 
> * Technically, Prometheus DID steal from Zeus. But it wasn't fire; not really. Zeus threatened to do basically the same thing his father and grandfather both did; consume souls for their power. And in essence, Prometheus did the same thing Zeus did to Chronos; forced him to regurgitate the souls, and then stole them with the intention of placing them into physical bodies. Nila was the last. When Zeus could not be compensated for his loss, he condemned Prometheus to Tartarus.
> 
> * Prometheus is one of few deities who understands Astral speech. When Nila is first created, she does not automatically speak Greek. The Greek translation of her Astral name is Elpis, but she goes by something phonetically similar to her Astral name.
> 
> * "That Which Is" is another creator deity. Prometheus has heard of them before, but has never encountered them personally. So far, he has a really positive impression.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nila has vanished, and Orion goes on the warpath

Nila still wasn't home when Orion woke up. Every nerve stood on alert when he opened the door to her studio and realized she wasn't in there. Normally she would be up and cooking by now, or if she had left early, she at least would have left him something to eat. But nothing was set out, her bed was cold, and there was no fire in the stove.

Orion ran all the way to the kitchens, threw open the door and startled one of the maids. “Is Nila here?” he demanded.

The girl shook her head. “I haven't seen her, General.”

Orion stormed the kitchen, bellowing his sister's name. “Nila!” he called.

The sous-chef came running at the sound of his shouting. “Orion, what are you doing?” she asked. “You'll wake the whole house!”

“Where's my sister?” he asked.

“I don't know. She always comes in with you.”

Orion sighed. “She didn't come home last night, Andrea.”

“What?” The woman shook her head. “But... doesn't she always leave with you?”

“Not last night.” Orion reluctantly bit his tongue. “She had some business to attend to last night.”

Andrea patted his arm. “Well, you cover whatever leads you have,” she said soothingly. “Daisy and I will search the grounds and the servant's quarters.”

Orion nodded, knowing that Andrea would be thorough in his sister's absence, and returned through the garden door. First things first, he needed to get dressed properly. If Nila was still with Hades, he would need all his armor and his wit.

It should have surprised him that nobody stopped him on his march through the castle. Clad in full armor, complete with his helmet, not a single servant stopped to ask him what his business was. Perhaps that was fortunate, because Orion was preparing himself for what might easily be called the fight of his life. One thing was certain; if he crossed blades with the god of the Underworld, Orion needed to win, or Hades could throw him into Tartarus and have his entire existence erased from history. And he was willing to risk it for his sister.

It was dumb luck that he found Hades as easily as he did. He shoved open the door to the archives and found the king sitting at a desk, looking exhausted and trying to stay focused on whatever it was he was reading.

Hades glanced up at him, and then sat up straight when he realized Orion still had his helmet on. “General Orion? What are you doing here?”

Orion stopped. “Where is my sister?”

Hades lowered his chin and glared at Orion. “I would suggest you take off your helm and remove that insubordinate tone from your voice when addressing me, General,” he snarled.

Orion took a step forward. “I have done my best to be a loyal soldier for you, Lord Hades, but I can't overlook this. Where is Nila?” He reached across his body for his sword.

In an instant, Hades was on his feet and inches from Orion's face. The king might not have been stronger than Orion, but he was definitely faster. He grabbed Orion's arm before he could touch his sword, and pointed the legendary black bident up under the general's chin. “You forget your place,” Hades growled. His blue eyes glowed angrily. “Do not presume to know my business, or to pass judgement when you know nothing of what happened.”

“You were the last one seen with her,” Orion insisted.

Hades considered him for a moment. He was extremely brave, even when Hades' blade was at his throat. The king slowly backed away. “Take off your helmet,” he said again, more softly. “You don't know what you're talking about.” The bident turned into smoke and disappeared into Hades' robes.

“Nila is missing!” Orion cried. “She never came home last night!”

Hades sighed. “I didn't know where you and she _live_,” he said exasperatedly. “I found an empty room in the servant's wing and left her there. She's probably still there.”

“What did you do to her?”

“She had a panic attack. I... _encouraged_ her to sleep.”

“That is _not_ what I meant.”

“I know exactly what you meant, General,” Hades snapped. “I realize you love your sister, but what we do with our time together is none of your business.”

“It is if you hurt her!”

Hades stared at him for a few seconds. Then he clicked his tongue and sighed. “I will only say this once,” he said. “I have no desire to be anything like my brothers; to use her or to hurt her. The time I spend with Nila is precious, and it's one of very few things in this world that makes me happy. I care deeply for her.” The corner of his mouth came up in a sneer. “It's why I didn't kill you where you stand.” He allowed Orion a moment to process this information. “Now, that being said, it's possible that I've become too involved with her, and that has put some strain on her emotional well-being.” He looked at the floor, almost sheepishly. “I _like_ her, Orion. I admire her greatly. I would never want to harm her.” He waited a few more moments, and watched with some satisfaction as Orion finally removed his helmet.

Orion coughed and hung his head. “I'm sorry, my lord. I overreacted.”

Hades nodded. “So I see. You live up to your Name, General.” He shifted his stance, folding his hands in front of him. “Now, I'm going to overlook this little incident, since it was done with your sister's best interests in mind. Go find her. I'll excuse your absence from the barracks until then.”

Orion looked at the floor. “Thank you, Lord Hades.”

The king sat back down at his desk. “You're welcome. Now please, get out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Hades wields an unusual weapon. Everyone who watches Spongebob or has seen the Little Mermaid knows what a trident is; a three-pronged spear wielded by Poseidon/ Neptune. Hades, the eldest of the three brothers, wields a two-pronged version; a "bident".


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nila gets advice from her staff

Nila awoke to gentle shaking. She moaned sleepily, and the person stopped for a moment.

“Miss? Miss!” Then the shaking started anew, with more insistence.

Nila opened her eyes. “What?” The little kitchen maid was stooped over her. “Daisy?” Nila slowly sat up. “What's going on?”

Daisy sighed and sat down on the cot next to her. “Thank goodness! We were all so worried...”

“Who was worried?” Nila interrupted. “What's happened?”

Daisy stared at her a moment. “Don't you... know where you are?” she asked.

Nila looked around. It was a simple stone room with a cot and a table, and a lit oil lamp that Daisy had brought in with her. She was in the servant's quarters. The night before had been entirely real, and Hades had left her to sleep in one of the spare rooms next to the kitchens. “Oh, shit,” Nila grumbled. “I never made it home last night.”

Daisy nodded. “The kitchen's been in an uproar! General Orion burst in here this morning looking for you. He was so upset, I thought he'd fight the king himself to retrieve you!”

Nila sighed. “He would, too.” She glanced up at Daisy. “Don't tell him I said that.”

“No, miss.” She suddenly looked confused. “Are you all right?”

“I think so. Why?”

Daisy shrugged self-consciously. “Well, you look... uh... you look like you've been crying.”

Nila felt her face turn pink. “Oh. It-it's nothing. I just need to wash my face and do my hair up again, and I'll be ready.”

“You'll do no such thing!” said a stronger voice. Nila looked up at her second-in-command, Andrea. The woman was stockier, with thick black hair done up in a bun, and had her arms folded across her ample bosom. “You look like Hell, Nila, and I don't ever say that.” That was true. Andrea seldom had a cross word to say about anybody. “Now, I don't know what happened that you didn't go home last night, or woke up here with mussed hair and tear streaks all down your face, and maybe it isn't my business, but it's clear you need a break.”

“Andrea,” Nila tried.

“No,” the sous-chef snapped. “First things first, you need to go find your brother and get him calmed down, because he'll raise Hell if you don't.”

Nila felt her lip quiver. “And... and then what?” she asked.

Andrea sighed and came into the room, knelt by the cot and took Nila's hand in both hers. “I think you need someone to talk to; someone who won't spread gossip the way we do.” She petted the back of Nila's hand. “We love you, dear, but we just work for you. There are things that food and a couple good hugs won't fix.”

Nila gasped and let out a shaky sigh. “Who do you recommend?” she asked.

Daisy and Andrea looked at each other, and then Daisy gingerly spoke up. “W-well, she faltered, “you could speak to one of the Judges.” Andrea scoffed, and the young nymph began talking faster. “I know they're awfully busy, but a conversation with them is considered privileged information. Whatever secret you might have will be safe with them.”

Andrea bobbed her head. “She's right about that, at least.” Then she shrugged. “I'm not sure how you'd ever get an audience with Lord Hades, though. I'm not sure how you managed that first time he came down here, when Orion got hurt!”

A fresh tear rolled down Nila's face. “That wasn't the first time,” she admitted.

The kitchen staff looked at each other.

“Wasn't the first...” Andrea repeated. Then she looked up at Nila. “Listen, Nila, I don't know how deep you've gotten into this, but you're in dangerous territory, being friendly with Lord Hades.”

Daisy nudged Andrea with the back of her hand. “He's already made her cry! What's she going to do about it?”

Nila shook her head. “Girls, it's nothing like that.” She rubbed her eyes and sniffed. “He's been helping me get my memory back, and last night... last night was really hard.” She looked at the covers.

“Why would he do that?” Daisy asked. “We're just a bunch of cooks!”

“I know!” Nila agreed. “But... he likes me, I guess.” She sniffed. “The problem is... I think he wants something from me, and he's afraid I'll reject him if he just comes out and asks for it.”

“He didn't force himself on you, did he?” Daisy asked.

“Oh, no!” Nila said. “He just keeps devising these little tests, putting me in situations to see how I'll react. It's as if he's trying to see if I feel a certain way, or...”

“As if he's in love with you,” Daisy finished. The room was quiet for just a moment.

“Oh, Nila,” Andrea whispered.

Nila's face went red, and tears filled her eyes again. “N-now wait!” she insisted. “We shouldn't read too much into this! He _can't_ love me! He's married!”

Andrea rolled her eyes. “As if that's _ever _stopped _anybody_,” she retorted. Then she sighed. “However, you are right; perhaps we shouldn't read too deeply into his actions. At least, not yet.” She eyed Nila warily. “You need to be careful.”

“What do I do?” Nila sobbed. “He's so powerful; his presence is overwhelming... I don't have the fortitude to deny him anything!”

Daisy leaned in and patted her arm. “Go to Judge Polaris,” she whispered, a little conspiratorially. “Perhaps he might know of a way to resolve this whole issue.”

Nila rubbed her eyes. “I don't suppose any harm will come from trying.”

“It's that, or go ahead and give in to Lord Hades,” Andrea reminded her. “And I haven't heard you say that's a bad thing yet! You've not said anything about how _you_ feel about this whole thing.”

Nila looked at her covers. Perhaps Andrea was right. It wasn't as if she didn't _like_ Hades. “I guess I'll have to think about that,” she murmured. “You know me; I express the emotions of people around me sooner than my own.”

Andrea scoffed. “You could be with anyone, so long as they are kind to you.”

Daisy looked up at her. “You say that like it's a bad thing!” she scolded. “I'd love to have someone who cares for me like that.”

“You are not making this easier!” Nila cried.

“Nila?” That was Orion's voice.

The head cook threw off her covers and leapt from the bed. “Orion! I'm here!”

He burst into the room, nearly knocking Andrea to the floor, and scooped his sister into his arms. “Oh, I was so worried about you.”

“I'm sorry,” she whimpered. “I'm all right, I promise.”

“You'd better be,” Orion scolded. He let her out to arm's length. “I nearly lost my head, never mind my job!”

“You went to the king?” Nila asked. “Orion!”

“Don't you dare scold me!” he snapped. “You don't have any right! Not after you disappeared like that.” He sighed and rubbed his thumbs across her cheeks. “You're all I have, Nila. There's no other responsibility before you; not my job, not my life.”

Nila looked down, into her brother's chest. Two more tears streamed down her face. “I'm sorry, Orion. I'll explain everything, I promise.”

Orion wrapped his arms around her. “You'd better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! No notes this time!


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family talk

They broke day-old bread together on the stone bench outside the kitchens. After Nila had finished recounting the previous night's events, Orion took a long moment to think.

“Do you remember any of that?” Nila asked. “I'm still getting it back, a little at a time, but...”

Orion nodded and swallowed the bite of bread he had been chewing. “It's faint, I'll admit, but it's plausible.” He hummed and studied the crust of bread in his hand. “Prometheus.” He blinked and looked up a little. “He was always smiling, wasn't he?”

Nila leaned toward him excitedly. “Yes! That's exactly how I remember him!” Orion looked at her, and she cleared her throat and sat up straight again. “I mean, he... he always seemed so happy.”

“He had you fooled, then, sis,” Orion said softly. He gave her a sad smile, and started pulling another piece of bread off the larger chunk in his hand. “One thing I do kind of remember... from the time he first put a sword into my hand, I could tell how he was feeling by how he fought; I could feel his impatience, his frustration, his desperation.” He sighed. “He wasn't always happy, sis. But he tried to be. He didn't take it out on us.”

Nila thought for a moment. “He really didn't, did he?” she asked. “Hades asked me if I loved Prometheus, and I told him I didn't know. I didn't realize it until now, but Prometheus was probably still trying to let me develop free will at the time. Even if he did have romantic feelings toward me, he wanted me to be able to express emotion for myself first.”

“You've never been bad at that,” Orion said.

“Well, no, but you've seen how often I'm influenced by other peoples' emotions,” she explained. “It's hard to say I feel a particular way about someone when _their_ feelings are so much stronger than mine.” She folded her hands in her lap. “My feelings just get... overridden.”

“And you're okay with that?”

She shrugged. “I don't really have a choice. But... that's why I kind of admire Prometheus. He was waiting to see how I felt before... before...”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. And essentially, Hades was trying to do the same thing last night.”

“You really think so?” Nila asked.

Orion finally stuffed the smaller piece of bread into his mouth. “Well, _yeah_. He might be a god, but he's still a_ guy_. He's trying to see if you fit into a specific role; in this case, seeing if you're romantically attached to someone.”

Nila sighed. “Maybe that's where Prometheus failed, then,” she murmured. “Maybe Andrea's right.”

“About what?”

“She said I could be with anybody if they were just kind to me.”

Orion thought about this. “Well, maybe that's true, but I don't think it's Prometheus' failing. After a year of training with him, I definitely had a good idea of my identity, my feelings, even personal ambitions!” He looked at his sister. “But you didn't.”

Nila put her face in both hands. “What is wrong with me?” she mumbled.

Orion tore off another piece of bread, and then looked at the pieces and hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe... maybe you're 'incomplete'.”

Nila turned her head enough to peer past her palm at him. “What?”

“Hear me out,” Orion said, and held up the two pieces of pita. “Maybe you're just missing that piece of yourself. If you found it, you'd be able to use that emotional discernment for yourself.”

She stared at him. “You mean a soul-mate.”

Orion shrugged. “Sure. I mean, I figured it could be an object or an amulet or a sigil or something, but I guess it could be a person. There's no hard and fast rule that says it can't be.”

Nila rubbed her face again. “You've been hanging around with Kata too much.”

“Says the silly girl who keeps company with the god of the Dead.”

“He values me.”

“I'm sure he does.”

“Is that sarcasm?” she asked. “If it is, I'm not in the mood.”

Orion popped the piece of bread into his mouth. “No, no sarcasm. Not this time.” He chewed for a little while.

“Then what?” Nila asked.

Orion hummed. “Well, if you'd let me finish my thought...”

“You were chewing. You interrupted your own thought.” She glanced at him again.

He gave her a dry glare. Then he swallowed and shoved the heel of bread into her hands. “Eat.” He dusted the crumbs off his hands. “No, what I mean is, I'm sure he does value you. He seeks you out often enough. My problem is that you don't know when people are just using you, and you don't know when to stop giving of yourself.”

“You think he's using me?”

Orion shook his head. “I don't know. I don't know enough about your relationship with him.” He sighed. “But given what he said this morning, I think he really just enjoys your company, and wants to see if you're ready to take the next step.” He looked at his sister. “But if you're not, you need to actually be able to say so. And as far as I've seen, your inability to differentiate your own emotions from someone else's makes you unable to consent.”

“Legally speaking, that's not fair,” Nila pointed out. “I'm of consenting age.”

Orion shook his head. “Look, I'm more interested in the ethics, where it concerns you. I can't make emotionally charged decisions for you. All I can do is point out the places where you fall short, and help you navigate the gaps. Sometimes that means having to let you stumble, and watching that has been hard for me in the past.”

Nila sighed. “I understand. I'm sorry.”

Orion reached up and pulled her headband off, and stroked her hair until it lay flat against her back. “Don't be sorry. I'm your brother. That's my job. But I would love it if someday you could find somebody who'll help you navigate those little gaps the way I do.”

Nila pulled off a little piece of bread and slipped it into her mouth. After a few bites, she felt Orion's head come to rest on her shoulder. “You're going to make me start crying again,” she choked.

“I don't care.” His arm came up around her waist. “You need it.” He lifted his head and kissed her on the temple, and Nila felt herself crack.

“I'm sorry,” she wept. “I'm so sorry.”

Orion wrapped his arms around her and held her there for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Keep in mind, the souls Prometheus stole from Zeus were put into adult bodies, made from a substance mortals at the time thought of as "clay." Even so, Nila and Orion are supposed to be in their mid-twenties, and that means memories of their early lives are foggy; Nila's mores than Orion's because of psychological trauma.
> 
> *You recall Orion told his sister he doesn't remember their father. This is partially true, because he doesn't see Prometheus as their father. So... who is their real father? ;)


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another fated meeting.

On Andrea's advice, Nila took the remainder of the day off. She went back to her apartment, bathed and changed clothes, and then wondered what she should do next. Sleep was a valid option; she didn't get to do that often, and it was a precious luxury, in her profession. She curled up on her bed for a few minutes, but the morning's events had left her too restless to go back to sleep. She sighed and got up, and decided she should go down to the markets and see how the city looked when most of its residents were awake and busy. That meant she would need her coin purse, which had a threadbare hole worn into it.

“Well, I guess that gives me _something_ to do,” she mumbled, and tied the purse to the belt on her dress.

The markets were indeed busy, though the fruit and game vendors had largely shut down for the day. The rest of the bazaar was full with tradesmen and women, crafters and artisans. At first, Nila couldn't shake the feeling of anxiety in the back of her mind; what if she ran into Hades? None of the other gods would recognize her, and that was fine, but she wasn't ready to face his Majesty so soon after their last outing together. But as the day wore on, she slowly began to relax. It was far too crowded for Hades to want to come out of the castle, she reasoned, even if it was in order to pursue her. And with that anxiety put to rest, she finally began to enjoy herself during her shopping trip.

She picked out a new purse for herself; a modest thing sewn together from scrap leather, and happily sat down out of the way of the crowds to transfer her money from her old bag into her new one. That reminded her of something Hades had said about raising her pay. He hadn't, and she supposed that was because she had asked him not to, but she still had more than enough to get by on, even as a cook. Perhaps with the extra money, she could put something special together for dinner, to thank Orion for looking out for her so diligently.

She raised her head and looked around, wondering briefly if there were any butchers left in the marketplace at that hour. Working in the kitchen like she did, she was frequently able to give Orion, Kata and her staff some fairly expensive meals. Lamb, which Hades so loved, was pricey, but seafood was another matter entirely. Anything besides sardines and anchovies was above her pay grade, though she might have loved to attempt a recipe with a good swordfish steak. Pork wasn't a bad idea. It was commonplace, but she knew for a fact that she had a better recipe for suckling pig than anyone in the city. She closed her eyes and listened for a moment; her ears would tell her if someone had brought animals to market that day. She was rewarded with a few gruff honking sounds; geese! What a lovely meal a roasted bird would make!

Nila got up off her bench and strode back into the street, aimed toward the sound of honking fowl. She turned against the flow of foot traffic and began pushing her way through the crowds. No way Hades would ever follow her into this mess.

Her thought process was interrupted by raised voices from ahead of her.

“Hey, stop!” somebody cried. “Thief! Stop that man!”

Nila stopped him, all right. The accused thief plowed headlong into her, knocking her over. He fell face first into the street, while Nila turned and tried to catch herself on one of the merchants' stalls. It didn't work. She knocked a vase off the table top and hit the ground in a crash of ceramic.

A few law-abiding citizens picked the thief up and held him, but Nila was slower. She reached down and cupped her right shin. She had hit it on the cart during her fall, and it was throbbing badly.

The merchant whose wares she had broken ran out from behind his stall. He was darker-skinned, brick-shaped, and had long gray hair and a short beard. “You clumsy whore!” he shouted. “Just look what you've done!”

Nila sat up. “I-I'm sorry!” she cried. “I have money; I'll gladly pay for the breakages!”

“That one's been bought, you stupid girl! How the fuck am I supposed to replace it?”

“I don't know,” Nila stammered. “I... I could pay the owner, mayb-”

“That was Judge Polaris' order!” the merchant screamed. He grabbed her by the strap of her dress. “You couldn't pay for it with a week's wages!”

Nila pushed at him. “I work in the castle! I have money, I swear!” She screamed as his palm stung her cheek.

The merchant raised his hand again, and suddenly he dropped Nila's dress. Someone had him by the arm, and had jerked him backward.

“What do you think you're doing?” another man's voice shouted. He sounded younger, and his voice was deeper and stronger.

Nila looked up at the stranger. He was dishwater blonde, with soft waves that were pushed back from his face and just dusted the tops of his shoulders. He was tall; almost as tall as Hades, but broader and better-fed, and he held a pair of gray wings over his head, which made him look even bigger. A whisper of “_Polaris_!” rippled from person to person.

The merchant took a moment to bring back his indignation. “This little bitch just bumped my cart!” he complained. “Just look at all the damage she's done!”

The judge looked at Nila instead, and slowly lowered his wings. He had a slight beard to match his blonde hair, and the eyes that studied her were narrow and dark. “She's bleeding,” he noticed.

Nila looked down and noticed that he was, in fact, correct; her arm was bleeding from several shards of the broken vase. She had really screwed up this time, hadn't she? She turned her eyes on a nearby boulder, curled her legs closer to her body and tried to focus on not crying while the small man berated her to Hades' highest judge with a demeaning string of obscenities.

The tall man returned his attention to the merchant. He pursed his lips and hummed thoughtfully, and nodded. Then, to everyone's astonishment, he drew his arm back and punched the ceramics vendor in the face. The crowd around them inhaled in unison.

“Fuck!” the smaller man spat, and clapped both hands over his nose.

“Want another one?” Polaris asked. “I could do more damage.”

“Why the Hell..?”

Polaris cut him off. “Because I don't want you wasting my time in court.” He dropped the man's tunic and marched up to the injured woman.

Nila looked up at him through the tears in her eyes, and shook her head. “I'm sorry,” she whimpered. “I'm so sorry...”

Polaris knelt beside her and shushed her softly. “I saw it. It was just an accident.”

“You're supposed to be a judge!” the merchant screamed.

“You're right, I am,” Polaris said. He hooked both arms under Nila's figure and gently picked her up. “And after what I saw, a punch to the face is absolutely fair.” He looked around at the crowd. “And if anyone thinks differently, I'll hear any _reasonable _arguments.”

The crowd shifted nervously, but no one spoke up.

Polaris scanned the crowd. “No one?” he asked. “Very well. Take the thief to the courts. The rest of you, disperse. We are finished here.” He turned to the vendor. “You really need to learn the difference between discipline and assault, Claes,” he snarled. “And if you _really_ want to stay out of court, you had better start treating people with some common decency.”

The merchant glared at him for a moment, but had no retort.

Polaris started carrying her away from the stall, and the merchant turned to call after him. “B-but your honor, what about your order?” he asked.

Nila's savior glanced over his shoulder at Claes. “I no longer want it,” he quipped. “And since I know you made that vase, you can be sure you'll never see another coin from my purse.”

“With due respect, that was a lot of money.”

The blonde man studied the merchant thoughtfully for a moment. “Then I'm sure I can find a fair way she can repay me. And if I can help it, whatever I decide will be none of your concern.” And with the thinning crowd murmuring behind them, Polaris turned and carried Nila out of the market street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! No real notes again! Let me know if you have questions!


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing where we left off...

Polaris carried Nila up a less crowded side street, cradled against his body like a child. For a while, she watched his face, the subtle turn of his head and watchful flicking of his eyes. Finally, she looked away. “I'm sorry,” she whispered.

“I wish you'd stop apologizing,” Polaris said gently. He cast his gaze down at her. “I saw the whole thing. None of it was your fault.” He returned his attention to their path. “And besides, I wasn't terribly attached to that vase.” He carefully adjusted his grip. “You're losing more blood than I thought. You might get a little dizzy, so just rest.”

Nila did as she was told and leaned her head into his shoulder. “Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“My office. We're not far now. Just hang on.”

Nila obeyed. She let her eyes fall shut and listened to the even rhythm of his steps. It wasn't like Hades, whose presence was intense and heavy, like thick wool. If anything, she felt more aware of her surroundings, and yet more relaxed. Shame and guilt faded away, and all that was left was the easy bobbing motion as he shifted from foot to foot, like the gentle shifting of a boat on water. But with it came a drowsy feeling, like floating.

“I'm getting some... vertigo,” she mumbled.

He harrumphed gently. “I told you so.”

He didn't sound worried. So Nila reasoned, with some difficulty, that everything would be fine if she just let herself float along for awhile.

It felt like only a few seconds. But when she opened her eyes, she realized it must have been longer. She was reclined on a couch lined with tufted linen pillows, and a dark blue cloak covered her legs. She looked around; she had never been in the courts before, nor had ever had a need to be. His office was mostly a clay red, the terracotta floors covered in patterned rugs. The walls to her left were lined with shelves, upon which lay stacks of parchments. The door ahead of her was open a crack, and the couch upon which she lay was situated just beneath a window through which a warm light shone.

Nila suddenly realized she had no idea where she was, and sat up straight. In her panic, she bumped a vase on the windowsill beside her. The vase wobbled to and fro with a clatter, sending a shower of dead leaves and flower petals raining down on top of her.

Nila made a sound in her throat and started to reach up for the vase, but a long arm shot out from over her head and stopped its precarious tilt. She jerked her head up to look at the figure behind her.

Polaris glanced at her, and then set the vase carefully back on the windowsill.

Nila swallowed the lump in her throat. He wasn't her particular type of handsome, but he carried himself with a grace and majesty that rivaled Hades himself.

“You shouldn't move around too much,” he stated. He meandered around the head of the couch, into her direct line of sight. “I had to extract a few shards of ceramic from your arm and shoulder, and I don't have enough bandages to patch you up again.” He sat down on a low stool a short distance away and began to study Nila through a pair of sharp, dark blue eyes.

Nila demurely averted her gaze. He reminded her of a bird of prey; the subtle curve to his nose and the angle of his forehead gave him the look of severity and intelligence. “Th-thank you,” she stammered. “That's never happened to me before.”

“I'm sorry.”

She looked up at him. The sharpness in his features seemed to have softened a bit. “Why?”

Polaris shook his head. “That's not something anyone should have to endure.”

He wasn't wrong, and the sentiment seemed genuine; so why did she suddenly feel so uneasy? She shifted a little until she could rest her wings a little more comfortably. “Is it...” she stopped.

“Yes?” he asked.

Nila watched his eyes. There had to be a reason she was feeling this way. “Is it really all right that I'm in here?”

This time it was Polaris who shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, that? It's perfectly all right. You aren't the first person to enter my office.” He looked away. “Not... under these circumstances, but... There's no reason to keep you out.”

A sense of clarity suddenly struck Nila like a cold splash of water to the face. _He_ was the one feeling awkward and uncomfortable.

Just as she thought it, Polaris caught her gaze and smirked sheepishly. “I'm sorry,” he chuckled and raked his fingers through his hair. “I don't regularly keep company with young ladies.” He nervously knitted his fingers and set his hands in his lap. “I don't mean to keep you. I just want to make sure you're all right before you go on your way.”

Nila smirked. “Well, I don't bite. And I appreciate your concern.” She looked down at the robe covering her legs. “And... you even let me use your chlamys. That's really sweet of you.”

He chuckled under his breath. “Everyone tells me it's cold in my office. You were incapacitated, so I... well, I took initiative.”

“Thank you.”

He coughed gently. “I suppose I should ask how you're feeling, then.”

Nila looked down at her arm. “Better, I guess, but I can't really tell for the bandages.”

“Oh.” Polaris got up and bent over her to fumble with her wrappings. “Well, let's fix that.” He unwound the linen from around her arm and carefully ran a thumb over the area. “It might bruise a little, but I think my powers might keep it from getting infected.”

“Your power...?” she asked hesitantly.

Polaris smirked. “Yes, I'm apparently blessed with a power called 'clarity'.” He reluctantly met her eyes. “I'm hoping it will make up for my lack of medical knowledge.”

Nila probed the cut on her arm with the tips of her fingers. “You know, it might. A cleansing spell would do the same thing as a good disinfectant.” She touched a sore spot and hissed between her teeth.

Polaris pulled her hand away. “Oh! Not quite healed, I see.” He glanced up at her. “I'm sorry, but my healing power must be limited to _cleaning_.”

Nila laughed under her breath. “That's all right. You did a fine job. Was it really that deep?”

“I don't think so,” he answered. “I was worried at first, because of how much you were bleeding.”

“And I did pass out,” Nila reminded him.

Polaris waved a hand at her. “Oh, that wasn't you. I used to do that for my sister when she had nightmares.”

Nila raised her eyebrows. That explained how she had fallen asleep. “How long was I out?”

“An hour, perhaps.”

The woman sighed and relaxed. “And here I was worried I had slept the day away.”

“Can't have that, can we?” Polaris asked jovially. “I'm sure you have plenty of work to do, if you work in the castle.”

He had remembered that from her altercation with the ceramics merchant. Nila nodded. “I'm the head cook, sir.”

“Oh, so it was _your_ fine cooking I had at my meeting with his Majesty!” he exclaimed. “I was wondering! I don't much like lamb, but that mint sauce you served with it was absolutely to _die_ for.”

Nila had to forcibly dig up that memory. It had been months since she had cooked that meal. “Um... Thank you.” Then she smiled to herself at his comment. He and Hades really were opposing forces, weren't they? Even their tastes in cuisine spoke to their differences.

“Thank _you_,” Polaris countered. He sheepishly looked away. “I don't think I would have been so patient with his Majesty on an empty stomach.”

“Is he really so bad?” she asked. “You speak of him like a petulant child.”

He nodded slowly, and finally decided to sit down on the foot of the couch. “At times, I suppose. He has a tendency to think with his ego, and that means he occasionally takes things a bit personally.”

Nila reflected that this was true. Hades had been affronted when she had revealed her former relationship with Kata. It suddenly seemed unusual to her that he should be so possessive of her if they were really just friends.

Polaris sighed. “It doesn't help matters that I won't cater to his ego,” he muttered. “I'm perfectly capable of being an asshole, so I know how to deal with one when I see one.”

Nila snorted, and the judge looked at her. “Sorry,” she said. “I've heard that joke before.”

“Joke?” Polaris asked. “I was pretty sure it wasn't a joke.”

She let her grin widen into a smile. “If it were really true, you would've left me to the mercy of that shopkeeper.” She gave him a knowing look. “It's a joke.”

He smirked at her. “That's kind of you.”

Nila bobbed her head to acknowledge him. “I'm not exactly politically motivated, your honor,” she said. “I see people through a very impractical lens, so actions are necessarily a better indicator than names.”

“And what lens might that be?” Polaris asked.

Nila wrung her fingers in the robe that covered her legs. “Empathy.”

Polaris' brow creased, and then he nodded slowly. “That must be difficult.”

“You have no idea,” Nila scoffed. “But... that being said, when I hear you and his Majesty being referred to by those titles, all I can do is think of it as a stupid joke.”

“I suppose that's fair,” Polaris considered. “But it's not stupid, and I'll explain why, if you'll hear my reasoning.”

“Sure.”

“Lord Hades and I happen to be on the same side of a political coin; both of us are judges with vastly differing viewpoints on our careers. In that right, we complement each other at times, and butt heads at others. The ongoing joke, as you put it, serves as a device to divide us into political categories.”

“That doesn't seem fair,” said Nila. “Not when you're trying to accomplish the same task.”

Polaris shook his head. “Oh, nobody said it was fair,” he said, “but it's a necessary thing. It creates a sort of contest between us, and in my experience, Lord Hades is motivated primarily by competition.” He smirked. “It compels him to be better. A better judge, a better leader, even a better man.”

“Does it work?” Nila asked.

Polaris shrugged. “In certain aspects, sure. He's good at his occupation, for the most part. But I couldn't speak to his character. I don't know him well enough.”

Now there was a thought; Hades didn't like being _known_ in general. If even Judge Polaris admitted how little he knew about his master, how well did Nila really know him? The cook studied the chlamys, rubbing its fabric between her fingers. “Do you mind it?” she asked. “Being pitted against him so?”

He shrugged. “I'm indifferent to it,” he answered. “It makes no difference to me whether he likes me or not, so long as he doesn't keep me from doing my job.”

Nila looked at her hands again. “I wish it was that easy for me,” she admitted. She laughed under her breath. “It's why I always wind up working so hard. It's hard for me to differentiate my work from myself.”

Polaris frowned. “That sounds terrible,” he said. “If I identified that closely with my work, any hard criticism would feel... crushing. Whether it was true or not!”

Nila smiled at his sympathy. “Yeah, sometimes. But mostly I've been very fortunate. I have very kind peers, and I learn people's tastes very quickly.” She remembered something important and looked up at him. “And speaking of which, I'd like to thank you properly for your kindness. You've sat with me for a while now and not even mentioned how I broke your vase.”

Polaris hummed in question, and then smirked. “Oh, that.”

Nila nodded. “Yes, that. That man- Claes, you called him?- said you spent a lot of money on it.”

The judge scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I hate when people do that,” he grumbled, “they'll say anything to convince me they're my friends, or pretend that they give a damn how I spend my time or my money.” He sighed. “Between you and me, ninety percent of what I deal with is flattery or abject bullshit like what you got from Claes.”

“Oh.” Nila frowned. “Well, I guess it worked on me,” she mumbled. “That's why... I really would like to repay you somehow. You've been nothing but kind to me, treated me as if money had no bearing on our interaction...”

“It doesn't.” Polaris leaned over and laid his hand on top of hers, which interrupted Nila's entire thought process. “One's well-being has an indefinite worth.” He shook his head. “What you went through today more than repaid your debt to me.”

Nila felt her face turn red. Nobody had ever spoken to her like that; in terms of her personal worth. She looked at his hand on top of hers. For all its familiarity, the gesture seemed distant and almost pandering. He wanted to comfort her, but was intensely aware of her personal space. Or perhaps he was just uncomfortable around her. Finally, she stammered out an idea. “P-perhaps I can choose how I repay you, then,” she suggested. “Could I maybe... cook dinner for you?”

The judge raised his eyebrows. “We are strangers,” he said. “You owe me nothing...”

“I know, but...” Nila interrupted, “it would ease my conscience.”

He harrumphed and removed his hand from hers. “Your conscience is over-active.”

“Well, besides,” Nila said with a shrug, “it was suggested that I speak to you regarding other unrelated matters.”

Polaris watched her for a moment, and then nodded thoughtfully. “All right. I can agree to those terms.”

“Is it all right if I come back here, then?”

Polaris smiled. “Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Polaris doesn't act like it, but he really is very much a wallflower. He gets involved when he sees a direct injustice, but for the most part he's quite content to stand back and watch. Bringing an injured woman to his office is a VERY new development in his career.
> 
> *Hades thinks of Polaris as an asshole, but the judge can be very understanding and thoughtful, if sometimes brutally honest.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Polaris has an unexpected guest, and Nila discovers something unusual.

Polaris let her go, and when he did he was sure he would never see her again. He knew where she worked, but it seemed deeply invasive to show up at her workplace in an effort to see her again. That was a shame, too; she was quite pretty, in an unusual way. Polaris was not one to be influenced by a person's looks, so he figured it was something else. He was going about his business the next day, investigating the accused thief from the day before, when it hit him. _She's not afraid of me_!

He recalled the way she had blushed, and the polite way she had fidgeted with his chlamys. She had picked up on his nervousness, if what she had said about her empathy was true. Not only that, but she had no concept of her own personal worth. My, that was a distressing thought.

He shook his head. He had no business trying to fix her problems, and making it his business would only lead to... complications. And it didn't matter, anyway; even after she promised him dinner, he didn't expect she might ever return. Not many people came to the courts of their own free will. How could he think some stranger might be so interested in seeing him again that she would return to one of the most feared places in Greece?

It was a nice encounter, but Polaris knew that, logically, that was all it could be.

He had almost convinced himself, and in so doing put the cook out of his mind, when he walked back into his office and stopped short. There she was, waiting for him on his couch.

Polaris stared at her. She hadn't changed anything about herself; just seeing her silenced the little voice in his mind.

She stood up when she saw him, and smiled at his stunned look.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

She shifted her weight to her other foot. “You said I could bring you dinner.”

Polaris looked at the floor and shook his head in wonder. “I did, but I... uh...”

“You didn't expect me to keep my word.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “No, actually.” She laughed under her breath, and Polaris fought to keep himself from stammering as he pushed onward. “I-I mean, what... exactly was going through your mind when you decided to come back?”

The woman looked at her feet. “Well, I... I love to cook. And I got home yesterday with some ideas for something I could bring you.”

“So you just went ahead and started cooking?”

She shrugged. “Well, yeah. I didn't get to finish my shopping trip, but I still had to make dinner for my brother and me, and I had a surplus in my pantry.”

“And so you naturally thought to bring it to me?” Polaris asked.

The cook lifted a covered dish off the couch and gestured at him with it. “I sure did.”

He took a couple slow steps toward her. “Thank you.” He gently took the dish by its handles.

“Careful, it's still hot.” She gingerly passed the dish to him.

Polaris studied the lid of the clay dish. “How very kind,” he mused. He looked up at her. “Do you mind if I..?”

“Yes?”

Polaris tilted his head slightly. “I'm sorry, I know it's rude to eat in front of somebody...”

“Oh, no!” she said, waving her hands. “Go ahead and eat! I'm sure you're hungry.”

Polaris carried the still-warm plate over to his desk and set it down in a clean spot. “It smells great,” he said. He lifted the cover, realized how hot it was, and hastily put it back down. “Ooh, it _is_ hot!” He covered his hand with a section of his robe and tried again, and a billow of steam rose from inside the pot when he lifted the lid. Three lines of large, dark green dumplings filled the dish, each one big enough to fill his hand. They smelled of lemon, oregano and olive oil, along with the tart, leafy green-ness of fresh vine leaves.

Polaris sighed longingly. “Dolmedes!” He looked at the cook. “How did you know?”

She shrugged. “Wild guess. You said you don't like lamb, though, so I altered the recipe a little.”

The judge couldn't stop staring at the stuffed grape leaves. “They're beautiful,” he murmured. He gingerly stuck his fingers into the dish and plucked one of the dolmedes out. To his surprise, the large dumpling didn't come unwrapped in his hand, and he was able to hold it despite its heat. “How did you alter the recipe?”

“I used beef instead of lamb.”

Polaris took a big bite of the dumpling in his hand, and then quickly raised the other hand to catch any of the filling that might spill out. He hummed and shook his head. “Perfect.” He looked up at the cook. “Tastes just like home.”

“Did you have dolmedes growing up?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No, my family was never that wealthy. The first time I tried them, I was almost grown. But... there's something in the flavor, you know?”

The cook nodded. “I get that all the time.”

“I'll bet you do.” He took another bite, and then reluctantly set the grape leaf down and wiped his hands. “Now, you said there was something you wanted to talk about?”

She folded her hands in front of her. “I... seem to have made a powerful friend.”

Polaris sat down on the edge of his desk. “All right,” he said slowly. “What worries you?”

The woman rubbed her arms nervously. “I believe he seeks to start a romantic relationship with me.”

“And is that a bad thing?”

She was quiet for a moment. “I don't know.”

The judge sighed. “I think you might be getting a little bit ahead of yourself, miss,” he said. “If you haven't even decided whether or not you want this fellow in your life, then it's a little too soon for me to be giving advice.”

“I'm sorry,” she said softly. “I'm worried. Perhaps it's about nothing, but recently things seem to have gotten a little out of hand.”

Polaris nodded. “That does happen from time to time.” He scooped a few grains of rice out of the dish and popped them into his mouth. “Well, if you're really that worried, perhaps it would be in everyone's best interests for you to slow things down. Do you think he would have a problem with that?” He picked up the half-eaten grape leaf again and aimed it toward his mouth.

“No, I don't think so. Especially not considering... recent events.”

Polaris paused, the dumpling hanging in midair between his fingers. “Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

She sighed and shifted her weight. “I have some long-term memory loss. Not only did he go out of his way to help me retrieve those memories, but he used them to contrive a method by which he could determine if I was already romantically involved with someone.”

Polaris harrumphed. “Sounds to me like he could have just asked.” He took another bite out of the grape leaf.

The cook snorted. “I understand why he did it, but his timing was just terrible.” She raised her hands in defeat. “The whole event was borderline traumatic. I got a lot of my memories back all at once, I'm crying on the floor in the ashes of what remains of my former life, and that's the moment when he wants to know if I'm already spoken for?”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Polaris said with a shrug. He popped the last bite of the dumpling into his mouth.

“Bet you wouldn't be so flippant if I told you it was the king.”

He glanced up at her. “The king is still a man, and men are not perfect.” He cocked his head to acknowledge her. “Still, that does seem like something he'd do. It seems petty, but he was more interested in your availability than your emotional state at the time.” He picked up another dumpling.

She was quiet for a few moments. “I suppose I was justified in my reaction, then.”

“It looks to me like you overreacted a bit, coming to see me,” Polaris quipped. He took another bite and hummed appreciatively. “But damn! With cooking like this, it'd hardly be a wonder he's so taken with you.”

The cook chuckled despite herself. “Thank you.”

“I'm sure that sells you far short. If the king would have you, you must have some rare quality worth making such a blunder over.”

“Perhaps.” She looked at the floor and smiled to herself.

Polaris shook his head. “How _do_ you cook like this? I mean, you have to be good to work in the castle, but this... almost feels like coming home to dinner with family.”

Her response took a moment, and even then it sounded like she might not be sure. “Do you... do you really want to know?”

He studied her for a moment. She knew how to make people open up for her like flowers, didn't she; by exposing her own vulnerability, she reached out and made others feel welcome and comfortable. It must be so dangerous, so terrifying, never knowing who was going to take advantage of that trait, never knowing if you had friends or just manipulators. Polaris glanced back down at the plate and fingered another of the dolmedes thoughtfully. “I wouldn't demand it of you,” he answered finally. “Especially not if it's a secret recipe or something.”

She laughed under her breath. “It's certainly not that. They really are just dolmedes.”

He studied the thin, fragile grape leaves for a moment. “But they're not, are they?” he asked. “Still, I can appreciate them as they are, without knowing the secret.” He smirked up at her.

She smiled back, and Polaris realized that he had just been tested. His answer allowed her to come to some sort of decision. She looked over at the brown, wilted plant on his windowsill. “Why do you keep a dead plant in your window?” she asked.

Polaris glanced at the vase and felt himself blush, and he looked back at the dish on his desk. “My inept attempt at gardening,” he mumbled. “It was a lily; a gift from my sister. But I know virtually nothing about plants, and it's suffered because of it. Either I was too busy, or I overindulged the poor thing...” He glanced at her. “Replacing the vase was a shallow attempt to restore its lost beauty.” He nodded. “But I keep it because... I have this nagging little idea that if I am patient, and don't lose hope, it might come back.”

She hummed, and a little smile played across her mouth. “And you remain ever hopeful?”

The judge nodded. “I'm stubborn like that.”

Her lips parted in a pretty grin. “Me too.” Her brown-speckled wings extended upward and fluttered demurely, and green leaves sprang from the dead plant. White petals unfurled, streaked with pink and centered with gold-tipped stamens.

Polaris stared at her. “How did you do that?” The woman giggled and folded her wings again, and Polaris stepped toward her. “You have power over _life_? H-how?”

She shrugged. “I've always had it.” She shyly looked away. “My friend Kata says I have the power of Hope.”

“Kata,” Polaris repeated. “General Kata?”

She nodded. “Yes sir.” She wrung her hands and chuckled nervously. “Conspiracy theorist extraordinaire. He and my brother are close friends.”

Polaris shifted his weight and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Why didn't he realize it sooner? “You're the one he was talking about,” he mumbled.

“I'm sorry? Kata spoke to you..?”

“Lord Hades did.” He released the bridge of his nose and opened his eyes. “He came to me several days ago and told me about a woman he had met; someone with extraordinary powers. It was a barebones account; he was very secretive about it all, but I knew... I just knew.” He growled and rubbed his face. “Oh, if he knew about what happened yesterday, Claes would be on his way to Tartarus right now.”

The woman's face went pale. “I couldn't... I can't be responsible for that.”

“Yes, we're lucky it was me and not Lord Hades coming to your rescue.”

She let herself smile a little again. “I suppose so.” She extended her hand to him. “I'm Nila.”

He stared at her for a moment. Then he looked down at her hand. “Of course you are.” He finally reached back and took her arm.

Nila gave him a strange look. “Do we... know each other, Lord Polaris?”

He glanced away. “We should, but... uh... not by that name.” He cleared his throat and sheepishly released her arm. “If I had the option, I would not use it.”

Nila shook her head. “I don't understand. Why not?”

Polaris sighed. “That's not my name. It's a silly title that Lord Hades decided upon when I came into his employ.”

“It's not silly,” Nila said. “It means 'True North,' doesn't it? It connotes someone with a strong moral compass. That's an admirable trait.”

“It may be,” the judge said. “But I'd be lying if I said the name didn't cause me some resentment.”

“Would it be too forward of me to ask why?”

“It bears only a portion of the meaning, and it means I'm not being used to the best of my abilities.” He leaned against the desk and sighed. “It's an empty title. Nothing more.”

Nila stared at him; this celebrated judge, bane of the unjust, who rivaled the power of Hades himself, peeling off layers of privilege and revealing a type of oppression Nila had no idea existed. He was serious, wasn't he? “Before I ask your Name,” she said softly, “I think I should ask what it means. I find that might be more important than the Name itself.”

Polaris looked at his feet. “Great Defender,” he mumbled.

Nila shook her head at him. “You say it with such shame.”

He shifted his weight sheepishly. “Because I lost the thing I'm supposed to be defending.”

“You seem to be doing okay to me.”

The judge stood up. “No. No. I'm _good_ at defending the truth, and pursuing justice and mercy for those souls, but that's not my _purpose_. That's not my _Name_.”

Nila watched him. He was right on the edge of opening up, and letting himself be human in front of her. Right on the edge of being liberated. She took a step closer to him. She could do this. She could give him that release. “What is your Name?” she whispered. “What are you supposed to be defending?”

He was still looking at his feet. She was close, too close and not close enough. He could feel her air, taste the warmth on her breath and smell the spices from her kitchen. He swallowed. “Promise you won't run.”

Sadness pulsed across Nila's chest. He was acting like a scared child. All he wanted was to be accepted. Why was it so important that _she_ accept him? She nodded. “I promise.”

He took a deep breath. “You,” he whispered. “I'm supposed to defend you.” He looked up at her. “My Name is Nilan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * In ancient Greek society, it was usually very common for men to be served and eat before women. Eating in front of someone, especially a woman, would not be of much concern to anyone else. But Polaris was raised as an Outsider, and has a slightly differing view on etiquette.
> 
> * Dolmedes are stuffed, rolled grape leaves. They are usually filled with seasoned boiled grains or rice and ground meat.
> 
> * Nila is what one might refer to as a "kitchen witch," i.e., her craft and her talent manifest primarily in her cooking! And, at least in my eyes, cooking totally counts as spell craft. And, considering who she is, a lot of her dishes are comforting and "taste like home."


	27. Taking a Break!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovelies! It's that time again! I know I mentioned doing a Q & A session this time, but I really don't have that many questions to answer. So, I'll give you what I've got! Here we go!

Madison asks, "What was your inspiration for writing this story?"

Weeeeeelll... long story there, along with a whole bunch of spoilers. What I CAN tell you is a funny little anecdote. I have been drawing the same figure for over twenty years; a man with dark waves and bright blue eyes. I showed one of my drawings to a coworker, who told me with absolute certainty that I was drawing Hades, Lord of the Underworld. You'd think I would be terrified, to stop drawing him, to stop thinking about him. But to be honest, it only brought up more questions. So, I slowly, painstakingly put together a story that made sense, mythologically and historically speaking.

Kyla asks, "How long does it take to write each chapter?"

Generally, it depends on the complexity and length, but generally one or two weeks. The first several chapters took a good deal less time, when I had more momentum.

I'm afraid that's it for now, y'all! If you like artwork, I have story-related stuff for your viewing pleasure at [hotaruno.deviantart.com](http://hotaruno.deviantart.com).

And as always, thanks for reading!


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nila tells her friends what she has discovered.

Kata and Orion stared at Nila across the kitchen table. “You're kidding,” the smaller general said.

Nila shook her head. “No, that's really his Name!”

Kata spread his hands, palm up. “Do you have any idea how rare that is?” he asked. “You almost never find two individuals with Soul Names that similar!”

“I _know_!” Nila gushed.

Orion rubbed his head. “First Hades, and now Polaris.” He lowered his hand. “How did you even get an audience...” He stopped and rubbed his eyes in exasperation. “You know what, why do I even bother asking?” he mumbled.

“What?” Nila asked.

“Oh my gods, it's one thing after another with you!” Orion snapped. “You've all but stolen Hades' heart, and now you're going after his fellow judge?”

Nila drew back into herself. “That's not what I meant to do! I didn't mean for any of this to happen!”

“What's happening is that you're drawing attention to yourself!”

Nila's expression went from scared to hurt. “Is this how you want it?” she asked softly. “I'm not the prettiest nymph in the Underworld, but it was kind of nice to be noticed for once.” She looked at her feet. “I'm tired of being isolated, Orion. You and Kata are the only real friends I've ever known, and this is my chance to maybe make a connection.”

Orion started to get up, but Kata reached over and clapped a hand down on his arm. “Don't,” he said softly. “Relax. Don't you see? This could be a good thing.”

Orion settled himself back into his seat and took a calming breath. “I'm sorry,” he said. “These past few days have been really rough.” He propped both elbows on the table and hid his face in his hands. “I can't believe I had the gall to confront him like that.”

Kata sat back and looked at his friend. “I can't either! You could have come to me first and avoided all of it.”

Nila sat down at the end of the table and took both Orion's hands. “I'm sorry, Orion. I promise I didn't mean for any of this to happen.”

Orion glanced at her. “What are you going to do now?” he asked.

“I don't know.” She thought for a moment, and then looked up at her brother again. “I never imagined either of them would want to keep my company... I _certainly_ never intended to make them try to compete over me.”

“I know you didn't intend it,” said Kata, “but Hades will inevitably make it into a competition. And if he's wise, Polaris won't play his game.” He reached over and put his hand on top of theirs. “That means that, even if Polaris is your missing piece, he'll back off. You'll lose him.” He tapped his fingers quietly on the surface of the table in thought. “That is, unless you do something very drastic very quickly.”

“Like what?” Nila asked.

Kata harrumphed. “You act as if you're ready to do whatever it takes.” He shook his head. “I promise you, you're not.”

“Just tell me!” Nila demanded.

Kata raised his hands in submission. “Well, as an example, you could try to keep the affair...”

“_Affair_?” Nila squawked.

Kata made a slow down motion. “Bear with me. You can try to keep the affair to yourself, which won't work if you want to continue to be friends with Hades. You could try to leave the Underworld, which probably won't work. You could marry him, and risk Hades' wrath...”

“Marry him?” Nila asked shrilly. “I _just_ met him!”

“I did say 'drastic,'” Kata said with a shrug.

Orion looked up at his sister. “And after the disaster that was his attempt at romance, Hades might make himself scarce for a few months. It will at least give you some time to come up with a plan.”

Nila bent forward with a groan and rested her head on the table. “Why me?” she moaned.

“Isn't it obvious?” Kata asked. His friends both cut their eyes at him. “Everyone needs Hope.”

Orion rolled his eyes. “In that case, Hades is really fucking demanding. He's got _both_ of you; you and Polaris; on retainer!”

“You're not wrong,” Nila grumbled. She picked her head up. “And... I don't really mind, since neither of you are terribly demanding of me. Polaris wouldn't tolerate it, I'm sure.”

Orion harrumphed. “More proof that he really is your missing piece.” He patted his sister's arm. “You don't know it, sis, but you put up with a surprising amount of bullshit. I honestly have no idea where your threshold is. The one thing I know about Polaris is that he keeps a wall between himself and everyone else, and willy-nilly he just _let you _in!” He looked at Nila. “You're something special, Nila, and I've always known it.” He sighed and rubbed his head. “I'm sorry for that; for yelling. I really am worried about you.”

“I know,” Nila whispered. “But, among the three of us, surely we can come up with a working plan.”

Kata just shook his head, and then propped his chin in his hand and studied both his friends.

“What?” Orion asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Kata mumbled. “Something is just telling me we're on the fast track to getting ourselves killed.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: blood, self-harm.
> 
> Hades shows his self-destructive side, and Polaris makes a subtle attempt to reach out to his colleague.

Hades wasn't usually the restless type. He could patiently pore over records and accounts and not worry about anything else, but something that night kept him from focusing. He shook his head and dug his fingers into his hair and tried to redouble his efforts, but moments later he sighed exasperatedly. It was no use. He couldn't put the events of the past week out of his mind. Who was he kidding? It wasn't just the past week. It was the past eight months!

He scanned the page one last time, the numbers flicking virtually unseen across his vision, and Hades slammed his stylus down on the desk. In his aggravation, the tip of the tool broke off and leapt across the desk's surface, and landed point-down in the meat of his arm. The king cried out and jerked his arm back, stunned at the sudden sting of the stylus' blade. He clapped his right hand over the spot and growled.

Something in him seemed to release. The pain had somehow refocused his attention on the present, on the more pressing matters. He lifted his hand and studied the small stream of blood as it dripped across his forearm. He gently tugged the broken stylus from his skin, and felt the stab of pain release his thoughts from despair's agonizing grip. How nice, not to have to think about it for a moment. Hedate was not gone, he still had the throne and his purpose with it, and even if he _had _lost hope, Nila was still there for him.

Well, maybe. What could he do to make up for his ineptitude? All he had wanted was to be closer to her with some sort of impunity. No relationship? No problem. But he hadn't foreseen the clarity with which she had demanded his true purpose that night. At that moment, she had seen right through him to what he really was at heart; obsessive, impulsive, and selfish.

_Selfish_. The word hissed through him like an asp. Hades gripped the tip of the stylus a little too hard, and it bit into the tip of one of his fingers, bringing him back to the present. That little jab didn't draw blood, but rather it brought an idea to mind. A hideous, perverse idea, but an idea. He lowered the tip of the writing tool back toward his arm. He could be forgiven, to show his repentance in blood. He could carve her name into his skin; no one would have to know he had done it, not even her. But he could be redeemed. He could feel like he had done something to deserve all the pain he was in.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Damn. If he was going to do this, it had to be private. No one could know. He pulled his sleeve down over his arm. “Come in.”

The door opened, and his fellow judge stepped into the room.

Hades dropped the tip of his stylus on the desktop. “Polaris.”

The judge bowed. “Your Majesty.”

“What brings you to see me so late?”

Polaris glanced around, perhaps to see if the two of them were alone. “I hadn't seen you since you returned,” he replied. “How did things go with Astraeus?”

“Not the way I had hoped,” Hades mumbled.

Polaris knew better than to press the issue. He nodded politely and pressed on. “I had wondered if you were going to leave me in charge indefinitely.” There was a note of humor in his voice. Perhaps it should have raised Hades' hackles, but Polaris only seemed to be trying to add a little levity to his presence. He didn't want the throne, and never had. He was no threat to Hades.

Hades hummed and set his elbow on the desk. “Would you want that?” he asked.

“Absolutely not.” Polaris shifted uncomfortably. “Don't even joke about that.”

The king laughed under his breath and rubbed his chin. Who ever had said he was joking? “Have you ever been so tired you can't sleep?” he asked.

Polaris took a slow step closer. “All the time.” He glanced around again. “Is that how I found you here in the archives this late at night?”

“Something like that.”

Polaris studied the king for a few seconds. Something was off, and he could feel it. “Your Majesty... I don't mean to be intrusive, but... are you all right?”

Hades sighed. “I don't know,” he answered. He slowly hauled himself to his feet. “Probably not.”

“Would it be too much for me to ask what happened with your cousin?”

Hades glanced at him, blue eyes studying the judge from under knitted brows. “Are you being sincere, Polaris?”

“I have no reason not to be, my lord.”

“Then why do you ask?”

Polaris sighed and decided to patiently lay out his thought process. “I might have one or two motives, your Majesty. The first is that I might genuinely care about your well-being and want to know if there is anything I can do to help remedy the problem. The second, less noble motive is that I simply don't want you to lose your focus, your nerve, or whatever it might be that might possibly keep you from being a capable monarch, because, as I stated earlier, I don't want to have to do your job for you.” He shrugged. “Take your pick.”

Hades swung around, his robes billowing slightly as he spun. “Why do you have to do that?” he asked. “Must you always condescend to me at the worst possible moment?”

“You've known me for years, your Highness. I know a decade isn't that long to you, but I'd think by now you could at least trust my honesty. My tactlessness comes from my trying to be respectful.”

“How so?”

“By giving you _options_,” Polaris said. “I may be wrong, but every interaction with you has taught me that you don't trust anyone to just be kind. Not without recompense, at least. And that in turn has taught you to be anxious and hateful and bitter. And while I am sorry for you, I respect you enough to give you that choice; to have some faith in me, or to be how life has conditioned you to be.”

“How considerate of you,” Hades snarled.

Polaris threw up his hands. “Ever notice how people tiptoe around you?” he asked. “Well, I won't. Teleus swings this way and that and tries to stay on your good side, but I'm the only one who is willing to tell you the way things are. I'm not afraid of you, and never have been, and as a ruling body I suppose I can understand why that bothers you.” He folded his arms. “That being said, would you take me seriously if I told you I was just concerned for you?”

Hades' frown softened. “I... suppose I see your point.”

The blonde judge harrumphed. “Something tells me you'd _rather _see me as your competition.” He sighed and took a step farther into the room, skirting the wall, trying as best he could to stay out of Hades' personal space. “It's not a nice place to be in, for either of us.”

Hades glanced down at the floor as he realized Polaris wasn't actually coming any closer. “I suppose you and I are in similar positions,” he explained, “where I don't know who to trust, much less who to call my friend.”

“I see,” Polaris mused. “And this little pet project of yours; that woman you told me about...”

“Don't call her that.” He never raised his voice, but Polaris cut himself off. The king cut his eyes up at his fellow judge in an all-too-familiar sneer. “She is not a project to be completed, a blade to be sharpened, or a machine to be fixed.”

Polaris nodded. “My apologies. I was not aware you thought so highly of her.” He came further up alongside Hades. “Perhaps you could call her a friend, then?”

Hades glanced away.

“Or... perhaps something more?” Polaris pressed.

He was so damned perceptive. Hades felt his lips part on their own. He could have just let it out, told him everything; told him Astraeus' prophecy, told him about the object of his affections, told him how badly he had fucked everything up. Polaris had never steered him wrong, but... at the same time, he couldn't risk being ridiculed. He couldn't trust that feeling that Polaris might have the answers he sought. “It's none of your concern,” he said evenly.

Polaris conceded with a nod. He had the answers he wanted. “Very well, your Majesty,” he said softly. “I hope you will let me know when or if I need to step in.” He looked down and noticed a bright spot of red on Hades' hand. “My lord, I think you're bleeding.”

Hades raised his hand to look at the blood that had trickled down to his fingertips. “Ah. Yes. I got a little clumsy with a broken stylus.” He self-consciously tugged on his sleeve. “I'll tend to it in a moment.”

Polaris hummed. “Don't let it go too long. You don't want that ink under your skin, and you don't want it to get infected.”

The king snorted. “I'm not a mortal.”

His colleague shrugged. “As you wish.” He turned toward the door again. “I'll get my nose out of your business, then.”

“Polaris.”

Polaris looked up at the sound of his name. “Yes, your Majesty?”

“Did you really mean it?” The silence between them hung heavy for a moment. “Do you... Do you really care?”

Polaris sighed. “Do you want me to care?”

Hades was quiet.

Polaris nodded, and then quietly pushed the door open. “Goodnight, Lord Hades.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Okay, we've heard the name Teleus a couple times now. According to legend, he's the father of Clymenus, king of Argos, whose story I've already told. But in this instance, or perhaps upon his death, he became a shifty weasel of an advisor to King Hades. I hope you see the irony in this.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nila invites Polaris out on the town.  
Trigger warning: allusions to slavery.

Hades didn't return to the kitchens that week, or the next, or even the next. And so Nila and Kata and Orion fell back into some semblance of routine. For a few days, Nila was the subject of some harmless gossip; she held audiences with the king, after all! But it was nothing that ever left the kitchens. Either Andrea threatened the jobs of those who participated in the gossip, or those who heard it feared the king's wrath too much to spread it across the castle.

Whatever the case, Nila went back to work. The first week was fraught with anxiety, a fearful jump every time the kitchen doors opened or shut, restless evenings wondering if he'd come down and try to join her for tea, and avoiding the sidelong glances her coworkers shot her. But the second week was more relaxed; he was giving her space, or needed his own, and for a moment it felt like life might return to normal. But by the third week, the quiet in the kitchens became too much to bear. Activity became something Nila craved, because boredom brought loneliness with it.

So on her next day off, she climbed the steps to the courthouse and knocked on Polaris' door.

“Come in,” came the reply.

She pushed open the door. “Nilan?” she asked.

Polaris looked up from his work. “Nila!” he exclaimed. He stood up and came around the side of his desk so quickly he almost knocked over his ink well. “I wasn't expecting you.”

“I know,” the cook said with a little smile. “It's just my day off, and I thought if you weren't busy I might spend it with you.”

The judge blinked at her. “Really?” he asked. “I mean, after the last time you visited, it's a wonder I didn't scare you off.”

Nila glanced down and shook her head. “You didn't scare me...” She shrugged. “Well, it was unusual, but you were such a gentleman... And after all, it's been three weeks, and I was starting to wonder if you... might want me to come visit.” She wrung her hands and looked at the floor. “I don't want you to avoid me because you're afraid you made a mistake.”

There was something sad beneath her tone. Polaris took a step closer. “Is that what Hades is doing?” he asked. “Avoiding you?”

“I think so.” She came in and let herself down on his couch. “We had tea together once a month for a while. I was starting to enjoy the company.”

He harrumphed. “He must be better company with you than he is with me.”

She snickered. “Perhaps.” Then she sighed. “Maybe I was just getting used to the break in my routine. At this point, I'm not sure if I miss him, or if I'm just getting lonely again in general.”

Nilan sat down beside her. “Is that why I haven't seen you the past three weeks? You've kept yourself busy enough to avoid being lonely?”

“It certainly feels that way.” She looked up at him. “Would you like to come down with me to the markets?” she asked. “I like the noise, but I don't want to go alone again; not after last time.”

He smiled. “And you'd rather have me than anyone else?”

Nila looked up at him. “Yes. I would.” She reached over and cupped her fingers over the top of his hand. “I want to know more about you; about us, maybe.”

Polaris looked down at their hands, and the edges of his eyes crinkled. _Us_. “I'd like that.”

It was a rare thing that either of them took companions to the market, and so there was a lot to talk about. As it turned out, Nilan knew a thing or two about clothing and leather quality, and so Nila came away with a pretty new peplos at a fraction of its original cost. Nila taught him how to select the freshest produce and meats, and the two of them stopped at a little stall near the banks of the Acheron for a light lunch.

“Amun makes some of the best cured meats,” Nila said as she handed the judge a loaf of bread the size of his hand. “It must be a recipe from the Surface, because I'd never heard of the techniques he uses.”

“Amun?” Nilan asked. He flicked his eyes up at the vendor, still hawking his wares to passers by. The man was golden-skinned, with deep black hair and a hooked nose. “Is he Egyptian?”

“Yes!” Nila sat down next to him. “I think his accent sounds so beautiful.”

Nilan chuckled at her. “You can find beauty anywhere, can't you?” he asked.

“Maybe,” Nila admitted a little sheepishly. “I'm an insufferable optimist.”

“You say that like it's a bad thing.”

She sighed. “Sometimes it is. I've made excuses for horrible people just because I _want_ them to be good. I always want to see the best in people, and sometimes I have to limit myself. Some people's good is in who they are, and for others it's in what they do or make. And sometimes the two don't coincide.” She raised her own pita to her mouth and bit into it.

Nilan followed her example, and was surprised to find the bread was stuffed with very thinly-sliced cured pork. He hummed and tried to bite through the fillings instead of pulling them out of the pita. He licked the crumbs from the corner of his mouth and nodded. “That is good.” He frowned and looked up at her. “It tastes familiar.”

“Probably because it's my bread,” she laughed. “I gave Amun the recipe a few years ago, in gratitude for helping me escape a tough situation.”

The judge hummed again. “Was it at least a fair deal? I mean, you gave him a recipe he continues to use, even years later.”

“It was well worth it, I assure you.” She set her sandwich on her lap and fidgeted with the edge of the bread's crust. “Honestly there's a lot I don't remember about my past; a lot I've blocked out. I was separated from my... whatever he was... when I was very young.”

“Whatever he was?” Nilan asked. “You don't think of him as your father?”

Nila shook her head. “I can't. Not by blood, anyway.” She looked at him. “I was... I was Prometheus' last creation. And it's hard to think of him as a parent figure when I know so little about him or our relationship.”

Nilan nodded slowly. “That explains _so_ much_.”_

“Stars, I'm glad you think so,” Nila griped. “It only opens up more questions for me.”

He gestured at her with one hand. “No, no, wait. Hades only told me someone had imprisoned you. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't see Prometheus doing that.”

“You're not wrong. Actually that happened after we moved here from the Surface. Orion and I lived with our stepfather until...” She stopped suddenly.

Nilan nodded again. “I remember that case,” he mused. “Orion killed a man in defense of his sister.” He looked at her. “You being the sister.”

Nila nodded and took another bite of bread and meat. “That's me. Me and my dysfunctional family.”

Nilan chuckled. “Haven't you _met_ his Majesty? You couldn't possibly compare with his family.” He shook his head. “I swear, half of my job is Underworld childcare.”

The cook snorted and almost choked on her food, and then when she had worried Polaris half to death, she started laughing. It was big and hearty, which he thought was unusual for such a small figure, and rang out so clearly that several people turned to look at the two of them. Nilan shifted in his seat in embarrassment, but the moment passed and the strangers who had been seduced by the woman's laughter smiled and went about their respective businesses, unknowingly a little happier than before.

The judge watched each person as they passed, and suddenly realized that the little area they sat in felt markedly different. It was warmer, more comfortable than before. And just as abruptly, he noticed that warmth had somehow crept into his own chest and burrowed in, where it shone like a tiny piece of a star. If he let it linger, what would it do to him? Could he get it out? Then again, did he want to try? Her laugh- just her laugh!- was soothing and lifted the pressure of this dark place.

When she had calmed herself, Nilan reached out and touched her arm. “Nila,” he said softly, “I know we haven't known each other long, but I haven't had this pleasant a day in...” He looked away for a moment. “Well, I can't remember when.” He lifted his hand and stroked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “If it meant we could have more days like this... could I see you again?”

The nymph blushed, but the question made her smile. “I wouldn't want to incur Lord Hades' wrath...”

“Honestly, what can he do to me?” Nilan asked. “I haven't broken any laws, and don't intend to do so. Legally speaking, he doesn't have a stance against me. The only question now is what you want.”

She looked up at him. “And you wouldn't influence my choice?”

“It's not my place.”

In that moment of clarity, Nila believed him. She hummed thoughtfully. “I'm not used to being given the opportunity for an unbiased opinion,” she said softly. “But... I have had fun today.” She smiled at him. “I'd like to do this again with you.”

Nilan's smile lasted for the rest of the afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The subtext of their conversation here: Amun is part of an anti-slavery network. After Nila/ Elpis was trafficked to the Underworld and used periodically for her powers, Orion killed their stepfather, one of the slavers. He and Amun smuggled Nila to a halfway house, where they got to know Kata and learned to adapt to life in the city.
> 
> * Having an Egyptian in the realm of Hades is unusual, since the Egyptian pantheon has its own afterlife. This implies that Amun was something of an outcast in his own land. His origins may or may not be revealed later. ;)
> 
> * Is it becoming clear where Nila's power comes from yet?


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief but beautiful moment.

Weeks stretched into months, and Hades did not return to the kitchens. Nila waited, wondering what each new day would bring her, but he didn't come. The dread eventually faded, and she decided that if he should want to visit, she would welcome him as an old friend, and everything would be all right. Some small part of her felt guilty for turning him away; he had cared about her enough to go to such lengths to determine his course of action. And then her clarity kicked in, and the guilt was followed by embarrassment.

She sighed and hefted her basket onto her shoulder and prepared to leave for the day. The only thing that could resolve this was Hades' return. She had spoken to Polaris about it, and he was adamant that his input would have no effect.

“If Lord Hades wants to sulk in his chambers, then nothing I say will convince him to come out,” he had said. And Nila had to admit he was right.

“Is there no way to get an audience with him?”

Polaris shook his head. “If he is that ashamed of what he's done, he'll likely just turn you away.”

The thought stung a little. Nila hadn't realized how severe Hades' anxiety was. “That's not what I wanted,” she said.

“I know,” Nilan had said. “But perhaps it's for the best.”

Nila knew he was right, but it didn't quite ease the sorrow she felt for her friend. But, unable to do anything more for him, she turned her attention to the events of the coming evening.

Instead of walking home with Orion, she came out of the kitchens and met Nilan outside the castle grounds.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Yep!” She grinned up at him. “I've been looking forward to this all day.”

Nilan took her to the theater, where the players were putting on some tiny, obscure comedy neither of them had ever heard of. But Nila laughed, and that was all he had wanted in the last few months; to hear the joy in her voice.

Then she spirited him away to the asphodel fields on the highlands overlooking the city, and spread out a cloak on the ground among the sweet-smelling flowers, along with a packed dinner she had brought along in her basket.

“One of these days, I'll have to cook something for you,” Nilan said as he dipped his final piece of pita in a dish of salted oil.

“I didn't know you cook!”

He bobbed his head. “I have to. My sister isn't all that confident in her skills. It's a shame; she's got potential.” He put the rest of the bread in his mouth, dusted his hands, and sighed contentedly.

Nila smiled and folded her arms over her knees. “You never told me her name.”

He harrumphed. “Sorry. Ayla.”

“How pretty!”

He looked up at her and smirked. “Yeah, it is.”

Nila shyly stroked her hair behind her ear and looked out, over the city. “It smells like rain,” she said.

Nilan followed her gaze. “What does that smell like?”

The young woman shifted and cocked her head to think about it. “Warm, earthy... almost metallic.” She smiled and looked up at the high ceiling of the cavern. “The bottom will probably fall out soon.”

“That's a dangerous statement,” Nilan said with a chuckle. He turned over and began packing up the basket. “So, you can predict when it's going to rain?”

“Sometimes.” She shifted her smile to him. “I love the rain. The sound, the smell...”

“The mud,” Nilan grumbled.

“Yes. Even that.”

He looked up at her. Her green eyes were almost glowing in the pale light of the asphodels. He could just stay here and wait for the rain, wait until the fog darkened the highlands and the glow lit up her entire body. Nilan coughed gently and shook his head. “It's the one reason I avoid the rain,” he explained. “The mud and the mess.”

She laughed under her breath. “It's an experience,” she explained. “I'm never worried about the mess; I have to clean anyway. I want the cool, fresh feeling on my feet, the tickle of droplets down my back...” She closed her eyes, and for a moment Nilan wondered if she wasn't feeling those sensations that very moment. “And the feeling that I've been washed completely clean; forgiven of every transgression I can't recall.” She opened her eyes. “I think... maybe... the Almighty is in the rain.”

She and Nilan both looked up as a rumble of thunder interrupted the moment. Then she turned a soft smile toward him. “We should go.”

For the first time since he could remember, Nilan didn't want to take cover. But he nodded and picked up his cloak, and Nila hoisted the basket over her arm, and they began the short walk back toward the city.

The high clouds that filled the dome of the cavern began misting down on them just before they got out of the asphodel fields. Nila quickened her pace, since she seemed more familiar with the area, and nimbly showed Nilan routes that wouldn't soil his long robes.

“Nila, wait!” Nilan called.

The woman turned and looked at him. Her hair was beginning to stick to the back of her neck and get tangled in the feathers at the base of her wings, but she grinned back at him, exhilarated.

“It's raining harder,” Nilan gasped. He tugged her a little closer by the arm and draped his chlamys over her head.

Nila laughed and pulled him down with her. “If I'm covered, you should be too.” She adjusted the cloak so that Nilan had room to stand under it with her. “Let's go before it really lets loose!” She hooked her arm in his, and the two of them clumsily huddled together under his cloak as they made their way back to town. Nila squealed giddily when the bottom fell out and soaked them both, and the two of them ran the rest of the way to the courts, the chlamys flapping uselessly behind them.

They sought shelter under the eaves of the courthouse, breathless and giggling and wet to the skin. Nilan shook out his wings and wrung his hair, and tried to squeeze the water from his robes. When he looked up, though, he was confused to see Nila just standing there, dripping on the stone floor, gazing joyfully out at the rain.

“Are you going to dry off?” he asked.

“In a minute,” she said. “I know I'm going to get cold soon, but... I wanted to enjoy it for as long as I could.”

She was so pure. A spirit of nature, a nymph like all the gods talked about. If she had ever been touched by impure hands, one would never know, looking at her now. The ones who had wronged her deserved Hell. If he could just keep her like this; shining and free...

The woman shivered and rubbed her arms. “Okay. I'm ready.” She turned to go into the courthouse.

Nilan suddenly reached out and caught her by the arm. “Wait,” he said.

She looked at him. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head. “No. I just... I want to remember you like this.”

“Remember me?” she asked with an uncertain half-smile. “Won't we see each other again?”

Nilan just studied her for a few seconds, watching the rain drip down an unprotected strand of her hair and onto her cheek. He reached up and wiped the droplet from her skin, but let his hand linger there for a moment too long. He realized this when her eyes darted to his mouth. She was picking up on his feelings. It was too late to pretend the moment hadn't happened, and there was nothing left to do but follow through. He bent slightly tilted his head to one side, and pressed his lips to hers.

He kept it sweet and gentle, but there was no mistaking what the gesture had meant. Nilan broke away. “I guess... that's up to you, isn't it?”

She stared at him. For a moment, Nilan was worried he might have overstepped his bounds, and he cut his gaze away.

When she finally spoke, her voice was soft and even, and for a moment Nilan thought he could hear the pain of betrayal in her tone. “How could you kiss me like that,” she asked, “and think I would refuse?”

Nilan returned his gaze to her, feeling the warmth ease back into the cold hollow in his chest. She was smiling. Thank the gods! The judge felt his mouth turn upward to match her. “Shall I do it again?”

“Yes. Please.”

She let him! She let him kiss her! Her mouth responded to him, her hand appeared on his jaw!

And suddenly, Nilan saw what the king had wanted. Not her power, not her acceptance; not to use her or possess her. He didn't want anything Nila, herself, could claim. All Hades had wanted was the courage to ask for what he really needed, at the risk of being judged too harshly by those he ruled. And just as suddenly, Nilan realized that Hades would use her up, not realizing how powerful she really was. The power of life, the power to heal; none of it mattered. She had power over the _future_, which not even Chronos could control.

Nilan resolved that if Hades wanted control over his own life, he would have to find a way to do it himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The Underworld is a fully-contained ecosystem. Sunlight from the surface is passed through a giant crystal that hangs from the ceiling of the cave, and the river Phlegethon provides the entire city with hot water. Because of the size of the cavern, the city is very humid, and does get several inches of rain!
> 
> * Because of its underground locale, there are plants that are difficult to grow, which makes them expensive to purchase and maintain. One of these is the olive tree in the castle gardens. However, since Hades' realm is the richest in the Hellenic pantheon, it's easier for his subordinates to acquire funds to keep up their areas of the castle and grounds. Asphodels, on the other hand, grow prolifically, and sometimes have to be culled to keep them in check.
> 
> * The asphodel fields are one of the most pleasant and naturally beautiful places in the Underworld. Something in the soil makes them bioluminescent, a phenomenon that doesn't occur on the Surface.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kata dreams of his past, and realizes he must apply it to his present.

Patience didn't get angry. He had watched the Book of Ages from the moment of its existence; watched worlds appear and pass, drifting through time as if they mattered only for moments. The universe always had a sort of balance; dark against light, void against creation. It wasn't a battle, at least not really. It was simply a shifting of power, passing it back and forth like some sort of game. And most took it far too seriously, in his humble opinion.

That is, until Hope decided to enter the universe and write her name in the Book of Ages. She had lit up its pages, and many had followed behind her, hoping to burn out the darkness forever. And he had loved her; they all loved her. But the universe was not kind to Hope. The first major blow knocked a piece of power off her, and Patience had felt her pain even through the Veil that separated them from the universe.

He watched in agony as Hope was fractured into smaller and smaller pieces, her light dimming and spreading further and further out from her Star. She was dying. And if she died, this time it would be permanent. This time, the dark would blot them out. The war would become real for the Tower's residents; no longer the simple passing of power from hand to hand, but pain and bloodshed, and everything they had been promised refuge from. Immortality, ascension, penitence; those words would cease to have meaning.

Fortitude went in after her, begging Patience to wait for the tides to turn. But they never did. The Book of Ages blackened from corner to corner, like a bottle of ink had spilled in the center and was slowly creeping outward.

There was no time left. If Hope was gone, it would be the end for all of them. A stab of unusual dread jolted through his chest. Patience took hold of the Book. This act of disobedience alone made him cringe. He gripped the last tiny section of light on the Book's final page and _pulled_. The parchment came away in his hand, and the slow bleed of blackness suddenly stopped.

Patience gave a sigh of relief. Whatever happened now was in Father's hands.

And just as he thought it, His Right Hand appeared and took Patience firmly by the arm.

Patience looked up at him. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I couldn't let her die.”

The Right Hand nodded, blond curls shifting ever so slightly. “I know. But now that you have her final piece, you have to go put her together.” He tugged Patience's arm, leading him toward the shining vortex in the next room. “You will be banished, pending her ascension.”

Patience's eyes darted up and met his peer's. “That could be eons, Michael,” he murmured.

The Right Hand shrugged. “You've lived longer. What is time to us, after all?”

Patience nodded. “Did I do the right thing?”

“You were impatient.”

Patience tugged backward, resisting the Right Hand's grip. “But did I do the right thing?” he asked again.

Michael watched him for a moment. Then he looked at the floor. “I don't know,” he said. His eyes were sad for the briefest moment. “But... we would not be complete without her.” He looked up and sighed. “Farewell, Patience.”

The Right Hand thrust Patience into a vortex of light, and his startled cry cut short as he vanished from the Tower without a trace.

Kata opened his eyes. He'd had the dream, or perhaps nightmare, once before, and it hadn't meant anything. And now it just made him tired. He still didn't know what he needed to do to protect her.

He focused his eyes on the body beside him. Her dark waves cascaded over her tufted pillow, her eyes were closed, breathing still slow and even through full, pouted lips. Hedate. She was so beautiful, so dangerous. Even now that he knew what she was capable of, he could feel her poison penetrating him, edging toward his core. He lifted his hand and stroked the smooth, soft surface of her cheek. How could something so toxic be so lovely?

And in that moment, Kata knew he couldn't stay. To her, love was a thing to possess, the self-gratification of being desired. He had been patient. He had tried to heal her, to love her both how she deserved and how she wanted, and neither was good enough. She refused to grow, to improve, to mature.

He sat up, sighed, and rubbed his face. It was time to go.

He rubbed himself down with water from Hedate's basin and a little bit of fragrant oil to mask the scent of sleep and sex, and kissed the sleeping princess on the cheek. Then he walked out onto the balcony and quietly vanished over the railing and into the morning mist.

It was an escape he made frequently, and this time was no different. So why did it feel so awful? He hopped down onto the soft, cool grass beneath her window, and looked up one last time. _That_ was why, he thought; because it _is_ the last time.

He could have lingered there, but it would have done him no good. And besides, someone was waiting for him, just on the other side of the wall.

Nila glared at him as he came out of the garden gate. “You're late,” she grumbled.

Kata shrugged. “It's still earlier than I usually get up.”

“Like that's an excuse.” She hauled a large, heavy basket into his arms. “Here, muscles, you can carry this.”

The general adjusted the basket so that his hands fit more easily around its edges. “Laundry day?” he asked.

Nila shook her head and picked up the other basket she had brought with her. “Weekly purge.”

Kata's eyes widened. “You amass all this clothing in a _week_?” he asked shrilly.

She wrinkled her nose. “They're not mine,” she retorted. “This is the castle staff's clothing. I get them each to donate whatever they don't want any more, and this is what I get every week.” She gestured to the basket on her hip. “And this is food. You're welcome.”

Kata shook his head. “Well, Jabbar will be happy to have it, whatever the case.”

The cook rolled her eyes at him. “I know.” She turned away. “Orion is getting the lye. We're supposed to meet him there.”

Kata followed her for a few minutes before he spoke up. “I'm sorry,” he sighed.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “For what? Being late?” she grinned.

He smirked. “No, for being mopey and bringing you down.”

Nila stopped and turned around with a sigh. She stared at him for moment, and then shook her head. “You know me too well.” She smiled and cocked her head. “What's wrong, Kata?”

Kata sighed and looked at the basket; anywhere other than at his ex-lover. “You were right about Hedate,” he murmured.

Nila rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Is that all?”

Kata raised his eyes to her in shame.

The cook's smile faded. “Oh. I'm sorry.” She slowed her pace and allowed Kata to fall into step beside her. “I wish I could say I was happier about that. Being right, I mean.”

“Never one to rejoice in others' pain,” Kata mumbled. “You ridiculous little empath, you.”

She harrumphed. “That's me.” She reached over and touched his shoulder. “I am sorry. I know you wanted it to work out.”

The general glanced at her. “You don't blame me?”

Nila shrugged and removed her hand. “Perhaps ten years ago I might've. But now... now that I know how it works, not so much.” She watched the path ahead of them. “You tried to heal someone who identifies themselves only by their scars, and... it looks like we both learned the hard way that it can't be done.”

Kata snorted. “And I'll probably make the same mistake in the next life.”

Nila smiled. “That's what our future lives are for, though,” she said. “New chances, new opportunities to improve, new ways to heal and build, right?”

Kata thought back to his nightmare that morning, and smiled. “I knew it was you the moment I saw you,” he mumbled.

She chuckled. “You said that twenty years ago, and I still don't know what it means,” she laughed.

He glanced at her. “Hey.” She looked up at him. “I love you, you know that? I'd do anything for you and Orion.”

She smiled. “I love you too. And the feeling's mutual.”

Kata sighed and looked back at their path. “Trust me, we're going to need that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The Book of Ages goes by another name: the Akashic record. It contains the entire history of this world; every human interaction from the beginnings of our time. It is rarely kept in a single place, ever since one infamous angel stole a page and began corrupting his fellows. Patience was, at one time, assigned to be its guard and courier.
> 
> *Not many are allowed to read the Book, because it contains prophecies of things that haven't yet happened. Patience is one of few who has seen it. Still, taking a page from the Book is a massive no-no, and there are massive repercussions for meddling in the prophecies written therein.
> 
> *Michael is actually a good deal older than most of the Virtues, including Hope! The title is bestowed to certain angels who exemplify the traits of one of the titular virtues. So... Hope was not always her name, and she actually trained under Michael.
> 
> *We will read more about Jabbar in the next chapter!


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio of friends meet with their mentor and spend some time volunteering.

Kata and Nila came out of the tunnel to the familiar sound of clashing weapons. The cook looked up to see her former teacher in the middle of a ring of his students, crossing dulled blades with one of the oldest of his flock.

Jabbar was bigger and older than Kata and her, thicker and darker-skinned than both of them. Neither of them knew where he came from; only that it was somewhere to the South. He spoke Greek well, but his Latin was better, and still he spoke both with a deep, reverberating accent.

His sparring partner, who was tall and stick-thin and reminded Nila of Hades, hefted the short sword over his shoulder and swung it at Jabbar.

Jabbar easily deflected the blow and turned inward to deliver a punch to the younger man's abdominal wall. The student doubled over with a grunt, and Jabbar flung him to the side with a simple twist of his arm. “Come on, switch it up!” he demanded loudly. “You're too predictable!” He turned around and watched the young man heaving for breath. “Zaran?” Jabbar asked. The teacher quickly dropped his weapon and knelt by his student's side. “Did I hit you too hard?”

Nila set down her basket and trotted up to the group. “Jabbar, what happened?”

He looked up at the cook. “I may have overlooked Zaran's physical limitations.”

Zaran flicked his blue eyes up at Nila, and a spark of surprise lit them up. His breath caught. He knew her well, and yet seeing her always prompted a spike of adolescent competition.

Jabbar looked around a the group. “Class dismi-!” his command warped into a yell of surprise as Zaran grabbed his arm and flipped him onto his back. The skinny young man followed the move by straddling Jabbar's broad chest and pointing the dull sword up under his teacher's chin.

“Looks like he finally got you, Dreamwalker!” said Kata admiringly.

Jabbar chuckled, despite being pinned down. “He did! Very good!” He tilted his head back. “All right, class is really dismissed this time. Let me up.” Zaran toppled off his teacher, and Jabbar sat up. “You won't get chances for subterfuge like that on a battlefield.”

“I beat you, didn't I?” Zaran growled. His hair was shorter and thinner than Hades', and his chin receded slightly, but Nila reflected that the similarities were still somewhat uncanny.

“I won't steal your victory,” said Jabbar. “I'm just advising a more practical application for the future. Now, really, son, did I hit you too hard?”

“Might bruise,” Zaran mumbled. His voice was slightly higher-pitched and more nasal than Hades'. He rubbed his hand over his solar plexus. “I'll be fine.”

“Still, I'd rather have Nila look you over, just in case.”

Kata lowered his chin in disagreement. “Jabbar,” he warned.

“Don't worry, Kata,” Orion's voice chimed in. Nila's brother appeared from the other side of the group of departing students. “Between the two of us, I'm sure we can keep things under control.”

Zaran narrowed his eyes at Orion, but said nothing as Jabbar pulled him up and ushered him back into the courtyard of the half-way house.

It was crowded, like always. Young people of varying colors, sizes, and ages talked and played in the lush courtyard. “Looks like nothing has changed,” Kata said as he and Nila carried their baskets inside. He looked around. “The faces might be the only things that change.”

Nila chuckled. “Zaran might be the only one who hasn't left yet since our time here,” she said. “He's really good with a blade, but won't join the army; doesn't want to risk losing the people he cares about.”

Orion sidled up beside his sister. “I don't get it. I mean, I see him every week and I _still_ don't get it. Kata and I are both in the army, and both of us see you all the time.”

Nila looked at her brother. “If you had the choice, would you let him see me, though?”

Kata and Orion looked at each other. “No,” they said in unison.

Nila hummed decisively, as if she had made her point.

“Can you blame us, though?” Kata asked.

“Yeah, the guy is at least as needy as Hades,” Orion supplemented.

“More!” Kata insisted. “His Majesty is at least independent enough to leave a month between his visits.”

“I know,” Nila sighed. “And I can look at Zaran and see he hasn't changed.” She set her basket down inside the front gate.

Kata set the basket of clothes down and reached to touch her arm. “Nila,” he said softly, “I know I've asked you this in the past but... is there something between you and Zaran?”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “It's always been like this. Always fighting for my attention. And when he _has_ my exclusive attentions...” She paused, and then laughed under her breath. “No, in that regard he's not at all like Lord Hades.”

“What?” Kata asked.

Orion folded his arms over his chest. “There's a reason I never wanted her to consort with him,” he grumbled. When both of them looked at him, he sighed. “He finds humor in making fun of others, and builds himself up on the pain of those around him.” He shifted his weight. “You think Hades' personality is dark? Zaran's magic is pitch black; magnetic, manipulative, and without compunction.” He harrumphed. “He could give Hecate a run for her money, I'm sure.”

Kata looked at Nila. “What did he do to you?”

The young woman shifted uncomfortably. “He got me alone and... um... tried to kiss me. Orion caught him before anything happened, though.”

“Was that the extent of it?” Kata asked. He raised both hands to stop Orion before he retorted. “I'm not trying to downplay it or anything! I just need to know if I should kill him or not.”

“Don't kill him.” The three of them turned and looked at Jabbar as he meandered closer. “At least not yet.” He held up a hand when Kata opened his mouth. “No, no,” he said, “don't bother lying. I know you meant it.” Then he smiled and opened his arms. “It's good to see you again, Kata.”

Kata took his friend in a tight embrace and clapped him on the back. “And you as well, Dreamwalker.”

Jabbar released Kata and leaned in to peck Nila on the cheek. “Hello, sweet one.”

Nila giggled. “Hello, Jabbar.”

He patted her on the shoulder. “Don't worry about Zaran. I'll be present for whatever examination you think he needs.”

While Orion took the other residents down to the river to wash the donated clothes, Nila and Jabbar took Zaran to be examined for his injuries. The examination was short, and did not go the way Zaran had wanted; half-dressed and alone with his pretty nurse. Jabbar watched closely during the uncomfortable encounter, and when Zaran was healed he dismissed the young man with a wave.

“Do I need to be more concerned about this, Nila?” he asked when they were alone.

She sighed and leaned into her examining table. “It was one kiss, and it was almost twenty years ago.” she said.

“It might not be for someone else.”

“Jabbar...”

“I need to know how deep the damage goes, Nila,” he murmured. “If he is broken somehow, in his mind or in his emotions, I need to find some way of protecting the people around him. Protecting them...” His voice cracked. “...the way I failed to protect you.”

“You didn't fail,” said Nila. “You were being a responsible, if slightly overworked parent. You didn't fail anyone.”

“I wasn't there...”

“But Orion was,” she said. “You taught him well, Dreamwalker. He did just what you needed, at just the right time.”

Jabbar was quiet. She didn't blame him for being absent. “Is there... is there anything we can do for him?”

Nila looked up at him, and for just a moment the silence hung heavy in the small room. Then she slowly shook her head. “I heal people, Dreamwalker; their bodies, their scars... But once they are broken I can't un-break them.” She pointed after her patient. “He has to decide on his own that healing and becoming whole is in his best interest.”

Jabbar sighed and leaned against the wall, and then rubbed his chin. “Did you care for him? Ever?”

Nila shook her head. “No. Once, he manipulated me into thinking I should, but...” She smiled. “I was blessed to have people show me what love really looked like.”

Her teacher looked at her, at the shy, sweet little smirk on her face. “You're not telling me something,” he realized. He stood up straight again. “You found someone, didn't you?” He chuckled. “You little fox! Who is the lucky man?”

Nila nodded. “You'll laugh.”

“Probably.”

She smiled and gave a resigned sigh. “Judge Polaris.”

Jabbar shook his head. “Amazing! The man can be swayed by love! Who would have thought?”

“I am of the mind that he makes a good judge _because_ he has love in him,” Nila murmured shyly.

Jabbar nodded. “Perhaps that's true.” He smiled. “I hope to meet him someday.”

“I hope so too.”

“And what of Kata and his quest for love?” Jabbar asked.

Kata poked his head inside the door. “You could ask me.”

Jabbar looked at Kata. “So I shall, then.”

Nila looked at her friend. “Shall I leave, then?”

“It doesn't matter,” said Kata. “You know the extent of it anyway.” He came all the way into the room and sat down on the exam table next to Nila. It was an awkward narrative; Kata wasn't one for storytelling, and telling such personal tales made his tone self-conscious, but it was heartfelt, and by the end, he was gently brushing the tears out of Nila's eyes.

“I'm sorry,” Jabbar said softly. “Truly I am. You didn't see Princess Hedate as a project, but ultimately that's what she has become. And in that transformation you lost your passion in being with her.”

Kata nodded and wrapped an arm sympathetically around Nila's shoulders. “It really is a shame. I care for her so much... I would give her my life if it would make her happy.” He looked up at his teacher. “And I know now that it won't. I wouldn't be enough.”

“My son,” Jabbar sighed, “at this rate, you will give your life to escape her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Jabbar is originally Berber, so neither Greek nor Latin are his native languages.
> 
> *As you've seen so far, True Names play an incredibly important role in this story. Jabbar's chosen name means "giant" in Arabic, and is also the name of the constellation of Orion. I named him this, not to equate him with the character of the same name, but because of Jabbar's close association with the star Betelgeuse. His real name, Mustafa, means "fortitude."
> 
> *Zaran will play a more prominent role in the remainder of the series, so don't count him out yet. His name means "emptiness," and he's been after Hope's affections since long, long before Hades ever existed. It's no wonder Kata and Orion are so protective of her!


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Polaris sets out to ask for Nila's hand in marriage... and comes face to face with a problem.

Unfortunately, that kiss brought Nilan to a tough decision. If he intended for his relationship with Nila to go any further, he needed permission from her legal guardian to marry her. That _could_ theoretically be her brother, General Orion, and if what Nila had said about him was true, her brother would gladly allow it.

But Nilan had a sneaking suspicion that Zeus had entrusted her care to someone else. And, after a little research, he found this to be true. A document in the archives, written some time before his employment, entrusting the souls Prometheus had created unto the Underworld government. That might not be entirely a bad thing if the reigning monarch could remain unbiased; that is, if he didn't have personal stakes attached to marrying one of them. But Polaris knew better.

He had to do it some time, he reasoned. And even if they put off having a ceremony, they would need an officiant to witness and sanctify the marriage. And, since asking Thetis was impossible, that left only one person; Hades.

This was bullshit, and Polaris absolutely knew it. He also knew, as he headed into the castle, exactly how Hades was going to respond to the request. But he couldn't avoid it forever.

He found Hades in his study this time, reading a stack of parchments in the floor before of a crackling fire.

Hades looked up at him, sighed, and then slapped his papers down on the floor beside him. “How is it you always manage to find me?” he asked.

Polaris shrugged. “Sometimes it takes me awhile,” he said. “Sometimes I mean to.”

Hades hummed. “And they say intent is half the battle,” he mumbled. He shook his head. “I guess they're right.” He picked up a page and started reading it again, as if trying to ignore his fellow judge.

“What are you reading?” Polaris asked.

Hades cut his eyes impatiently up at Polaris, ground his teeth once, and then put the page down again. “My... _friend_ suggested it to me; a work of literary fiction. I hadn't had time to read it until now.”

“And how do you find it?”

Hades nodded. “Interesting. It's nice to know mortals go through the same things I do.”

“Does that give you hope?”

Hades looked up at Polaris, wondering for a moment how he had meant the phrase. Did he know? The king looked away. Well, it didn't matter anyway. He decided to take the question at face value. “I suppose it does,” he answered, and then smirked as he realized how true that really was.

Good. He was in a good mood; at least, as good a mood as Polaris could possibly evoke. Perhaps that would make things easier.

“What did you want?” Hades asked. “I suppose I should ask why you set out to find me this time.”

Polaris carefully averted his gaze. “I actually came to ask you for your favor.”

“_A_ favor or _my_ favor?”

Polaris shrugged. “Might as well be both. Either way, I'll owe you.”

“I employ you,” Hades said with a chuckle. “And you already work overtime. What could I possibly hold over you?”

“I'm sure you'll think of something.”

Hades pressed his lips together in thought. “What kind of favor?” he asked.

This was it; this was the moment when Nilan would see exactly how petty or generous his lord really was. “I wish to be married.”

The king looked up at him. There was fear in his eyes. And then it was quickly replaced by confusion. “I thought you were already married.”

Polaris shook his head. “I am the head of my family, my lord. I am my sister's guardian. I am not married.”

Hades narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “How did you get out of the _atimía_?”

“I'm not old enough, my lord. One must be unmarried and at least thirty-five for that tax to apply.”

Hades made an amused sound. “I always thought you were older than that.” He raised his eyebrows. “You act like it.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Polaris cocked his head at the backhanded compliment. “I think.”

Hades raised a hand. “So, why did you come to me? Does your bride-to-be not have a legal guardian?”

“Yes. You.”

“Me?” The god of the dead looked up at Polaris. “Surely you don't mean one of my daughters.”

“I don't. I mean one of your citizens. She is an orphan, which makes the head of state her legal guardian.”

Hades pressed his lips together and hummed. Polaris _could_ mean he intended to marry Nila, but it was just a chance. There were a lot of orphans in the city, and even then, shouldn't Orion be Nila's guardian? Hades didn't want to make the mistake of assuming the worst of his judge; especially when Polaris had never steered him wrong before.

Still, the idea of marriage to anyone brought up an odd feeling of resentment. His own marriage was dry and lifeless, and the thrill and laughter he got from sharing company with Nila more than proved how unhappy he was. How could anyone derive joy from being wed?

Hades abandoned his parchments with a sigh and got up off the floor. “There are days when I wish I could see the world as you do, Polaris.”

“How do you mean, my lord?”

Hades glanced at him, and then picked up his decanter. “Water?” he asked. Polaris shook his head, and Hades shrugged and went on. “You know, I don't say this often, but I've never been in love.”

Polaris furrowed his brow. “That is... surprising,” he said. “I might even say _incredible_.”

“You don't believe me.”

“As old as you are, your Majesty, I would have thought you would have seen it before.”

Hades nodded and carefully tipped the decanter against the lip of the cup he had been using. “Oh, I've seen it,” he said. He cut his eyes up at Polaris. “And I generally do not hold it in high regard.”

Polaris cocked his head. “I... I don't think I understand.”

Hades sighed and clenched his jaw. “I won't marry you.” He slowly lifted the cup to his lips. The cool, fresh water did nothing to loosen the knot around his throat. He looked at his fellow judge, and was astonished to see that the man's expression had not changed. “You were expecting that answer.”

Polaris nodded. “I hope you will not think it impertinent for me to require an explanation, my lord.”

Hades hummed, almost carelessly. “I suppose it is warranted.” He took another sip of water and set the cup down. Then he slowly turned to face Polaris. “I've seen love, and what it does to men. All I've ever experienced of it, myself, is that it is blinding. It twists the truth, makes you see and crave the warmth and acceptance of others.” He shook his head. “So I won't marry you.”

“So your solution is to push others away and make your unfortunate lack of support look like independence?” Polaris asked. “Is that all you can do?”

“Look, I _need_ you, Polaris,” Hades said, his voice rising in frustration. “You talk about a support system and a balance, and frankly, you're all I've got.” He took a step toward the judge. “And the fact is... I don't want you to be like me. I don't want you to wind up regretting your decision, resenting the happy people around you.”

“Like you resent me.”

Hades rolled his eyes. “Okay, I earned that one.” He rubbed his face, and then flapped his hand to his side in defeat. “I do, though, you know? The fact that you can do my job better and more dispassionately than even I can, and then you can be brave enough to put your heart on the line for someone. I may resent you, but...” He shook his head. “I envy you. I really do. And I am sorry. It shames me to think that this is the _one thing_ you have ever asked of me and I have to refuse because it's something I don't personally condone.”

“Forgive me if that doesn't make swallowing the bullshit any easier,” Polaris growled.

Hades stubbornly lowered his chin. “_Nilan_, I gave you my answer. I need you as an impartial judge, and I won't have a silly thing like _love_ disrupting your objectivity.” The king turned and took a step back toward the fireplace.

The sound of his true Name shocked Polaris; not only Hades' empowered use of it, but it cemented the idea in his mind that the god of the dead knew exactly what he was doing. Polaris shook off the invocation with some difficulty as tears finally began to rise in his vision. “What are you hiding from me?” he murmured.

Hades picked up his cup. “You are dismissed, Polaris.”

“Do you know her?” he pressed. “Did you know who I was planning on marrying?”

“Polaris.”

The judge was quiet for a moment. “You did. You always knew who it was.” He shook his head. “I can't believe you... that you would excuse your own selfish behavior and say this is for my own good. Or _hers_!” Nilan clenched his jaw as a single tear slipped out and rolled down his face. “How could you?”

Hades turned his back to the man. He lifted his hand and turned his cup up over the flames. The crackling fire spat in protest. “Get out,” he said quietly.

Polaris pulled a deep breath in through his nose, then spun and strode from the room. The big door slammed shut behind him.

Hades waited for his peer's footsteps to fade before he let his anger come to life. He let out a yell and flung the cup across the room. It hit a wall and splintered in every direction with a crash. Then he turned his rage on the short drink table, knocked it and the decanter to the floor with a sweep of his arm. He picked up the vessel and smashed it down full-force into the fire pit. The fire gave a feral hiss and went out.

The shuffling of paper under his robes got his attention, and Hades looked down at the scattered parchments. He reached down and picked up a handful of them, clenched them in his fist, and turned his aim toward the fireplace. But the fire was already out. The pages would never catch at that temperature.

Hades stopped and took a breath. The fire was out. The flame was gone. There was no hope left. He looked at the crumpled pages in his hand, and then slowly opened them up and smoothed them out. Her neat, whimsical writing warmed the ice around his heart.

Hades sank to his knees. She could have been _mine_. She could have been mine if only I had asked, and now it's too late. Now she will know what I have done, and she will _shun_ me, out of heartache or out of spite; neither matters because she will be gone. Part of him wanted to go back, to call Polaris back to him and spill his misdeeds and mistakes until he was absolved, empty and exhausted and free at last. But the little voice chanted on, hammering against his chest with every beat. It's too late. It's too late. It's too late.

The ink smeared under small, fine droplets of water. Hades wiped his face; they were his own tears. The pressure built up inside his chest, and he let himself go, rested his head on the cold stone floor, and wept.

They didn't find him until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The atimía are ancient Greek penalties, sometimes taxes or fines. In this case, there's an annual penalty tax for unmarried men over the age of 35. There are other penalties to this particular atimía, like a parade through jeering crowds and thrown garbage. Being married improved one's status in a community, and even though same-sex relationships were not frowned upon, the laws regarding single folks were not kind.
> 
> *The tax does not apply to Polaris/ Nilan because he is only 24.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nilan breaks the news to his other half.

Nila and Orion were not expecting visitors that night. But, late that night, as Nila was handing off freshly-cleaned bed linens to Orion, the pounding came at her door.

“Who could that be?” Nila murmured. She stood up and turned toward the door. “Maybe it's Kata...?”

Orion put his arm out to stop her. “We aren't taking chances.” He reached down and picked up his sword and sheath, and took a few quiet steps toward the door. He set his ear to the crack. “Identify yourself,” he demanded.

There was a short pause, and then a quiet sigh, almost as if the visitor had realized who had spoken. “Nilan, son of Ares, high judge of Hades.”

Orion opened the door. The judge was wilted and pale, his eyes rimmed in red. “Your Excellency,” he murmured.

Polaris flicked his eyes up at him. “Is your sister home?” he asked evenly.

Orion nodded. “Please, come in.”

Nila breathed a sigh of relief and trotted up to embrace him.

It was wonderful; so perfect to feel her arms around him. And knowing that it had to be the last time sickened him. Nilan gritted his teeth and gently pushed her out, until she looked up at him.

“Nilan?” she asked. “What's wrong?”

Her eyes were so innocent and so full of love; the kind of love not even the gods understood. He couldn't possibly tell her how much he longed to share that with her. He lowered his gaze in shame. “I can't do this.”

Nila smiled and lifted her hands to the hollows under his cheekbones. “Can't do what?” she asked. She lifted herself on the tips of her toes to kiss him, but he turned his head to evade her. Nila drew back to study him. “Nilan?” she asked. “What happened?”

He reached up and clasped the backs of each hand and held her there, close but not close enough. “I wanted to marry you,” he said, almost at a whisper.

Nila let herself have a hesitant smile. “You do?” Then her smile faded, and she corrected herself. “You... did?”

He nodded and gripped her tighter. “I would have asked Orion for your hand, but...”

“But what?” Orion asked, a little indignantly. “You couldn't come to me for permission?”

Nilan glanced at him and shook his head. “Both of you are wards of the state. I'm sorry, Orion, but your permission would be invalid.” He looked at Nila again and rubbed his fingers across her hands. He heaved another breath and shut his eyes, thinking that it would be easier if he didn't have to see her face when he broke the news to her. It didn't work. A tear escaped and rolled into the crease of her palm. “So I asked Lord Hades for his permission... and he refused me.”

“What?” Orion asked. “But... he can't _do_ that!”

“He can do whatever he wants, so long as he has a seemingly valid reason,” Nilan replied.

“What reason could be enough to separate you two?” Orion shrieked.

“He said it would affect my judgment.”

Orion scratched his head. “Well, I guess I can't say he's entirely wrong...”

Nila's face went pale. The feeling of betrayal was stunningly painful. Hades' words rang through her head, reminding her of _exactly_ what he was capable of. _Jealous. Selfish. Spiteful._

“I need to sit down,” she murmured.

“What?” Nilan asked.

“I need to... I need to sit...” Her knees collapsed from under her, and she sank into Nilan.

The judge caught her and guided her down to the stone floor. “I've got you,” he whispered. “It'll be all right.”

“No,” Nila breathed. “Not this time.”

Nilan pushed her upright. “No, perhaps not this time.” He tried to balance her on her hip, but still had to hold her up with both hands. “Then we will have next time, and the time after.” He stroked her face and forced a smile. “You are my other half, and I will love you for all eternity.” His hands found her shoulders and held her steady, even as he wept. “He _will_ have you, Nila. It's merely a matter of time. And when that happens... when that happens there will be nothing I can do to stop him.”

“What do I do?” she asked. Tears were just beginning to well up in her eyes as her situation spun further and further out of control. “He's going to take me away..?”

“No,” Nilan said, as soothingly as he could. “No, no. He can't take you against your will, innocent as you are. But he will try to control you.” He tried to breathe through the pain in his chest. He swallowed. “I doubt you would be entirely unhappy...” He cut himself off to swallow his panic and take a few breaths. “But he will make you tired, Nila. He doesn't understand... He doesn't understand you and how you love. He's only a child.”

She nodded. “I know. Underworld childcare.”

The two of them laughed amid their tears.

Nilan pulled her close and set his forehead against hers. “I beg you,” he whispered. “I will do whatever I can for you, but when the time comes, I beg you, don't spite me for this. Don't flaunt it in my face.” He shook his head gently. “It's the one thing I think I couldn't take.”

“I won't.”

“Promise?”

She nodded. “I promise.” She rubbed the tears out from under his eyes. “I'm not like that, Nilan.”

He smirked. “I knew you weren't.” He pulled her to him and wrapped her up so tightly she could barely breathe. “Not this time, but someday,” he swore, “someday we will escape this.”

“Then will I be yours?” she whispered back.

“No,” said Nilan softly. “It is I who serve you. You are not meant to be possessed. You are meant to be defended.” He kissed her temple. “No. Someday, my love, _I _will be _yours_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * To date, Polaris is the only Underworld Judge that isn't a son of Zeus.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tense dinner.

The food that following day was flavorless. It didn't matter to Hades, since he didn't eat. But Persephone dropped her knife on the table and took the piece of meat she had been chewing fruitlessly out of her mouth.

“Ugh,” she said, dropping the masticated bite onto her plate. “You used to have the best cook in three realms, Hades,” she said. “What happened?”

Her husband pushed his plate away, then sighed and propped his head in his hands.

Persephone looked down the table at Hades. It took her a few seconds, but the long-forgotten conversation slowly came back to her. “She was your friend, wasn't she?” she asked. She slowly stood up. “What did you do?”

He didn't answer.

“Hades, what did you do?”

Hades let out another shaking sigh, and Persephone came around the end of the table and trotted down the length of the room toward her husband. She came up beside his seat, the great wooden chair at the head of the table, and stood there and watched his bony shoulders tremble. She reached out and ran a gentle hand across his back, and considered him for a while. Well, this was new and different. In four thousand years or so, it was rare that he let her see any emotion. And now suddenly, in the last year, he had suddenly deigned to reveal his heart. Persephone slowly knelt beside his seat, dragging her hand gently down his arm. “I like this new side of you,” she said. “Being honest with yourself about your feelings was never something you were good at.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled sardonically.

She snorted and rubbed his arm. “Trust me, it's good for you. Bottling it up only makes it worse, right? Haven't you learned that yet?”

“Woman, stop messing with my coping mechanisms.” He glanced past his hands at her. “How I handle my feelings is my business.”

“But it's _not_,” Persephone insisted. “If you were isolated, it wouldn't be a big deal, but you're the King of the Underworld, Hades. How you deal with your feelings affects everyone.” She cocked her head at the table. “And it looks like your cook is proof of that.” She reached up and ran her fingers through the short curls at the back of his neck, and grinned a little as he tensed up against her tickling. “But... I said I liked the change I see in you because it means you're growing. And I know a thing or two about growing pains.”

Hades sighed and folded his hands. “What do you want from me?”

She smirked at him. “Be honest for once.” She grinned wickedly, which was dangerous. As lovely and sweet as Persephone was, she had a quick and poignant wit, and she knew exactly how to get Hades to do what she wanted. “I _dare _you.”

“Now that's just childish.”

She shrugged. “Never fails.”

Hades rubbed his face again. “I hate you sometimes.”

She harrumphed. “You agreed to marry me. It's your own fault.”

“Fuck you.”

“You did already.”

Hades snorted and finally allowed himself a moment of quiet laughter. Then, when the moment passed, he sighed. “Oh, Persephone,” he said. “If you only knew, you would be so ashamed of me.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” She shrugged. “Can't be any worse than some of the stuff Dad's done.”

“Oh Stars,” Hades said, and shook his head. “It's right on up there, though.” He gritted his teeth, and finally sat back in his chair with a sigh. “You remember Polaris?”

She rolled her eyes and cupped her hand over the top of his. “How can I forget?”

Hades swallowed. “He wanted to marry her.”

Persephone cut her eyes up at him from under her eyebrows, and twisted her mouth to one side. “Let me guess; you said no.”

“I said no.”

“Why?”

“I need his clarity...”

“No, I dared you to be honest with me,” she demanded. “If you feed me the same bullshit you gave him, I'm going back to the Surface, and I'm taking that poor girl with me.”

“My citizens do not leave...”

“I don't give a damn. I'll smuggle her out, if I have to. She can join the Maidens.”

“She's not a virgin.”

Persephone shrugged. “I bet she and Mom would get along. And Demeter is _just _like you; she doesn't like many people.”

Hades cursed under his breath. “Damn you,” he snarled.

She bobbed her head at him. “Would I be wrong to take her with me?”

The king ground his teeth. “No.”

She rose up again, and leaned close. “Then I suggest you take my dare seriously,” she whispered threateningly.

His skin grew cold under her hand; the only outward indicator that he might actually take her threat seriously. The idea _frightened _him. Was this why Polaris chewed his nails down to the quick? The anxiety in being true and honest? Hades lifted his other hand to his mouth, trying to hide the way the muscles pulled the corners down into a pout. He couldn't cry. Not in front of her. But she had made it clear she wouldn't have anything but the truth, and his terror was proof that he still had something worth losing. He clenched his eyes shut and swallowed. Why in the nine Hells did it have to be this hard? And why, after all they had been through, was he so worried about what Persephone thought about all this?

He rubbed his thumb across her fingers. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend it was Nila's hand he was holding. “I fucked up, 'Seph.” He almost never called her that. That automatically told Persephone how bad this was, and how much Hades regretted his decision. “I fucked up, and now I can't stop. I can't stop hurting the people around me, or pretending to be selfless...” He shook his head. “I wanted her.”

His queen nodded. “I know.”

“You'd like her.”

“Probably.” She tilted her head. “Go on.”

Hades shook his head. “I was... I was so ashamed of what I had done to hurt her... I apologized, of course, but I never went back. I couldn't face her. I couldn't risk it... the chance she might berate me, ridicule me, sneer at me... and then discard me like our friendship meant nothing anyway.”

Persephone nodded. “The bullying thing.”

“Yeah.” He stuck the tip of his finger between his teeth, testing to see if the urge to bite his nails might be present. But it wasn't. “I thought if I waited long enough, I'd forget. We could go back to how things were before I met her, but it seems that... after I experienced her light, the darkness just grew stronger. Now that I've tasted salvation, that hole in the pit of my stomach... like hunger, almost; it threatens to absolutely consume me.”

“And... what happens then?”

“I don't know.” He shook his head and finally looked at his wife full on. “I don't even know if I'll be the same person anymore.” He rubbed his face again. “And then I made it worse. Polaris got involved some way or another, and he fancied her...” He shook his head. “And I just felt like I was losing her all over again.”

Persephone sighed. “So... after all that... all you wanted was a chance with her.”

“Yes.”

“And you lost your chance because you weren't brave enough to follow through and see the fruits of your mistake.”

He nodded. “That about sums it up.”

Persephone nodded and tightened her lips into a thin line. “Looks like you learned your lesson, didn't you?” She patted his hand and got up.

“Not quickly enough, it seems,” Hades grumbled.

“I don't know,” said Persephone as she walked back down to her spot. “If she's as kind and empathetic as you say she is, then maybe there's some room for you to clean up your mess.” She picked up her cup and the decanter of wine. “You can expect that to take a while, though.”

“You're awfully hopeful.”

She gave him a knowing look. “Honey, I've seen you on your bad days. At this point, all I can do is tell you it'll get better, and then wait until I can say I told you so.” She began walking away from the table.

“Where are you going?”

“I'm going down to Amun's.”

“Who?”

“The baker who owns the shop next to the Acheron? He and your beloved cook share that fabulous recipe for pita bread. I'll see if he has any crusts left.”

Hades scoffed. “And you're taking the wine?”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “If you'd actually eaten anything, you'd know it was to get the taste of her broken heart out of my mouth.” She made an obscene gesture at him and disappeared down the hallway with her spoils.

“Fuck off,” he called after her.

“What? I can't hear you! I'm too busy fucking off!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Most of the time, Nila unwittingly puts her power and emotion into her cooking. Being exhausted or emotionally absent would render the food flavorless.
> 
> * Demeter cares for a group of unmarried women. In ancient times, "maidens" were women who had never been sexually active, while "virgins" were those who were unmarried. For our purposes, I've tried to put it into a more modern perspective. Hades believes his sister would not accept Nila into her group because of her sexual history.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The generals go see Polaris.

There came a polite knock at Polaris' office door.

“Enter,” he called without looking up from his work.

The door opened, and a small, dark-skinned man poked his head inside the room. “You summoned me, your Grace?”

The judge looked up from his papers at the man, and then put down his stylus. “Yes. General Kata.” He stood up and beckoned at the man. “And I know General Orion is with you, so bring him in.”

Kata looked over his shoulder and murmured something into the corridor behind him. Then he swung the door open and let the taller general into the room behind him.

“Please shut the door.”

Orion closed the door.

Polaris trudged up to the two of them, and then looked up. Both of the generals looked like puppies that had soiled his carpet. Polaris shook his head. “Men, don't look like that, please. You've done nothing wrong.”

Kata glanced up at him. “Then... why did you call us, your Honor?”

The judge sighed. “I suppose you both have heard what happened between me and Nila.”

The smaller general shook his head. “It wasn't right,” he said. “I'm sorry you both had to go through that.”

Polaris nodded. “I know. Me too. But I called you both in here for a reason: to discourage you from making waves, as much as you can.”

“What?” Orion asked. “After he basically manipulated the law to his whim, you're just going to let him?”

Polaris held up a hand to try to calm Orion down. “Look, I don't have to agree with what he did. I don't even have to believe that he has my interests, or anyone else's, at heart. I know you're angry. Do you honestly think I'm not? He took...” He stopped to try to calm himself down, but his voice still cracked when he tried to continue. “He took away my freedom to love someone. And I literally cannot think of anything more selfish.” He sniffed and rubbed his face. “But the very last thing I need right now is an uprising. This is a personal matter, and we need to keep it as quiet as we can.”

“But why?” Orion asked. “If it were my call, I'd be raising all Hell at this injustice!”

“I'm sure you would,” said Polaris. “But as it stands, Hades is the more favored of the two of us; he's got his family name, if not their support, and...”

“You have the support of two major generals,” Orion interrupted angrily. “We don't have to let this go so easily!”

“Do you think I would not overthrow him if I could?” Polaris hissed, wary of being overheard. “We do not have the resources to outlast Hades, and even if I _could_ overthrow him, I have no use for his throne.”

“You don't have to have ambitions for his throne to do what you know is _right_!” Orion snapped.

“I _know_ it's not right!” Polaris yelled back. Tears filled his eyes, and Orion stopped for a moment. “I know. But there's something going on behind all this... something that will bring this whole City to its knees.”

“What is it?”

The judge shook his head. “I'm not sure. Call it a conspiracy, if you like.”

“We're very much interested in conspiracy theories,” said Kata.

Polaris pursed his mouth thoughtfully. “Have either of you two noticed that our lord and master is occasionally very... impulsive?”

Kata and Orion looked at each other, and then Kata folded his arms. “Occasionally?” the smaller one asked with a snort.

“Well,” said Polaris, “I get this feeling he's going to do something a lot more foolish than to keep me from my missing piece.”

“Would that give you leeway to overthrow him?” Orion asked.

“General Orion, I don't _want_ it to come to that.”

“Well, what _do_ you want?”

Kata held up a hand, and his subordinate reluctantly fell silent. The smaller of the two stepped forward. “Putting all your personal aspirations aside, he has a point. If you need us, all you need to do is say so, and we'll jump.”

Polaris nodded. “Thank you,” he choked. “Thank you.” He sighed. “To answer your question, Orion, I want out. Out of his castle, out of his employment... out of his City.” He took a deep breath. “And I think by the end of this, both of you will too.”

Kata nodded. “I believe you. Then whatever it takes, I'm with you.” He reached out his hand. “Trade?” he asked.

Polaris looked warily at him, but finally took the general's arm.

“_Nilan_,” Kata invoked gently. The judge's eyes lit up in horror as he heard the sound of his Name, but the fear drained out of him at the sound of Kata's soft command. “Be _patient_. Your time will come. And when it does, the Cosmos will be on your side.”

When the invocation wore off, Polaris looked from Kata to Orion, and then back. “I don't...”

“Ankháta,” Kata said.

Polaris understood. “_Ankháta_,” he invoked. The small man's aquamarine eyes lit up. “Be _wary_. Our monarch is on the verge of collapse, and he will need someone who is cool-headed enough to do the right thing at the right moment.”

Kata gripped his arm tightly for a moment, and then gave him a small, compassionate smile.

Polaris released him, and then looked at Orion.

The taller general smirked. “I've got a feeling you don't need what I've got,” he laughed quietly.

“Probably not... 'decision'?” Polaris guessed.

Orion nodded. “And after my last run-in with Hades, it's probably best if I just avoid my next several interactions with him.”

Polaris nodded. “I'll likely do the same. Thank you both. Just... Thank you.”


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: explicit sexual content.
> 
> Hedate tries to prove herself... and bites off a good deal more than she can chew!

Her father was ignoring her. Hedate didn't take it personally; he did this every so often to just about anyone and everyone. There could be any reason for it, and there was no real reason to think it might be her fault... not that it was ever her fault.

Kata's absence was something else, though. She never summoned him outright because it would make Hades suspicious, but she didn't see him under her window any more, and that was troubling. It hurt, too, and that was certainly a new sensation to Hedate. She didn't recall doing anything in particular to deserve this treatment, and so the emotional turmoil just stirred up her resentment.

What made it even worse was Hecate's snail-pace in her teachings. The boredom and heartache made studying unbearable, and Hecate's frequent check-ins to keep her focused just made the poor nymph want to scream. Her mother was decidedly unsympathetic, too, which only distanced her further from anyone who might understand her plight. And the irony that she automatically dismissed her father as a sympathetic party was rather unfortunately lost on Hedate.

Something had to give. The tension and frustration was pulled tight across the young nymph's chest. On most occasions, this buildup led to an explosive temper tantrum, and everyone involved had a different solution. Hades' normal response was to placate and pacify, while Hecate's was to isolate her daughter and ignore her until Hedate burned herself out. Only Ares ever really dealt with the problem head-on, and that was a rare thing, since he always seemed to be fighting a battle of his own. Even so, the collateral damage from an encounter like that was so high that most everyone vacated the area, and left both parties alone for days after the fact.

But it wouldn't come to that. Not this time.

When Hecate came to the Underworld to retrieve her daughter, it felt like one of those days where all the little inconveniences built up until both she and Hedate were miserable from sunup to sundown.

In the midst of it all was a single reprieve. Hecate sat her daughter down at her antique desk against the wall to study when one of the furies, in an unusual fit of clumsiness, knocked over Hecate's scrying bowl, spilling water all over the stone floor of the study. In the scurry that followed to clean up the mess and right the bowl, Hedate stood up from her seat at the desk and plucked the single unfamiliar tome from its place on the shelf above her, and then tucked it under the stack of parchments she was being forced to read. Then the girl sat back down and went back to scanning the same line over and over.

That evening, Hedate packed her bag to return home and slipped her mother's book in with her homework. Tonight's the night, she thought. Tonight, I show everyone how capable I am! I'll rule like a true queen, and I'll rain Hell down on all who oppose me!

So that night, she shut herself away in her room. It was clean and cool, as usual, inlaid with garnet geode tile and hung with glittering crystal. More proof that her father adored her; he lavished her with all the riches befitting a true princess. But she was tired of the cold, empty feeling of the stone room. She was tired of feeling like she wasn't good enough of smart enough... that she wasn't enough.

She unloaded her bag in the middle of the floor, shoved her homework to the side, and opened the tome.

“Yes! This! This is what I've been waiting for!” she whispered to herself. She began flipping through the pages, looking at the illustrations of the beings she would be able to summon. How beautiful and grotesque they were! She stopped on the second page; a beautiful man with flowing blonde hair, standing in a chariot. She forced herself on, flipped through the entire book, but she kept coming back to that page. Of all the monsters, the creatures of the dark, the monstrosities with which she could conquer the world, the one that drew her eye the most was made in the image of a man; a man who was beautiful, insatiable, and could match her vicious mind.

She marked his sigil on the floor of her room with a piece of coal from her fire pit, pierced her hand with a silver dagger Aphrodite had given her, and spoke his name with the insolence and lust of a pubescent child. “Beliar.”

She thought he would rise from the circle she had drawn on the floor, but no. In a shimmer of heat, he appeared, fiery and golden, pristine as if cut from stone by an infernal sculptor. He was more beautiful than she could ever have imagined.

He opened his eyes; they too shone gold, and the hair that cascaded across his back shifted with the hot breeze wafting through the room. His perfect lips parted, and a warm, low voice played from between them, sweeter than song. “Who calls me?” He focused his glowing gold eyes on Hedate and hummed, as if tasting something delicate on his palate. “What a beautiful offering!”

“Offering?” she asked. She sat up straight with indignation. “I am no sacrificial lamb! I am Hedate, daughter of Hades, and future queen of Olympus and all beneath it!”

He chuckled warmly. “Well, Lady Hedate, I am Beliar, King of Hell, Commander of eighty legions. Tell me the reason you called me here, then...” He looked around. “To your chambers, I presume.”

She stared at him, and then looked at the floor.

Beliar cocked his head at her. “What is it, child? Do you suddenly regret summoning me?”

“No.” She met his eyes. “No. I summoned you because I wanted to prove to my m-...” She stopped. “To _everyone _that I am capable of handling myself. That I can hold a demon like you captive, and that I can rule _my kingdom_ with absolute control.”

“Devil,” he corrected. “You desire my power, then?” he asked. He smiled, and it was kind and loving. “You could ask for prudence, for patience, for hope... you would choose me over those virtues?”

“I have been patient, and nobody notices. I have listened to my mother's prudence, and for what? To sit and wait while my opportunities pass? And my hope?” she felt her back stiffen. “My hope is for my enemies to tremble before me. My hope is that one day they will see me as their true ruler; the sublime goddess of absolute destruction!”

Beliar studied her for a few seconds, head still tilted to one side, and then grinned. “You are a fool, little girl,” he said. “The wise ask for virtues to help them rule. But like so many before you, and millions to come, you rejoice only in the idea of power; something you don't even know if you can control.”

“So you can't do it.”

He shifted his weight, and glanced down to step out of his chariot. “Oh no, I can certainly do it. But I have my doubts that you will be able to handle it.” He stepped out from inside his sigil, and the heat rose from his toned, tanned figure in a hiss of steam. “But I'll give you what you ask. I recognize your sacrifice.”

Hedate took a hesitant half-step backward. “What?”

He cocked his head. “Did no one tell you, girl? Did you not read my aspects in your little tome?” He reached out and stroked her cheek, sending an impulsive thrill down Hedate's spine.

Hedate felt her face begin to glow red. “What are you talking about?”

“You summon a devil, and a King of Hell at that, with no knowledge of what it takes to restrain me?” He smirked and leaned down toward her. “Offerings are traditionally made during a summons to entice the summoned entity to cooperate. Any half-wit sorcerer knows this. And you, my lovely princess, sacrificed your blood to me.” His fingers trailed across her jaw and onto the milk-white skin of her neck. “That's quite a dear sacrifice to make.”

“Oh.” Hedate turned her face shyly away and felt his lips drag hot across the bone of her cheek. “Well, would you have had anything else?”

“No.” His hand slid to the back of her neck, where his fingers tangled in her hair.

“Then we have a deal?” she asked.

“We do.”

Hedate felt his heat pressing in on her, flooding up through her abdomen. “H-how does one seal a deal with a demon, then?” she asked, her fingers finding the folds in Beliar's robes.

“I am not a demon,” he said patiently. “I am a devil. There is a difference.”

“Devil, then.” She gasped as his teeth tightened on her ear. “You don't seem like a guy who shakes hands on his dealings.”

“No. My deals are intimate, and I treat them so.” He drew back just enough to look her in the eye. “Don't tell me you're afraid now, little princess.” He came in slowly to kiss her mouth.

The heat on its own was doing things to Hedate's mind, so much so that she might have had trouble responding if he hadn't given her that few inches' space. “No,” she said, and cracked her mischievous grin at him. “And I think you'll find I know what I'm doing.” She dropped her hands from his waist, fingers dragging through the thin sheets of his robes until they met resistance between his legs.

Beliar harrumphed. “I very much doubt that.” Still, he backed her into her bed and directed her down, onto her back. “However, I look forward to finding out.” He pinned her to her mattress with long, smooth hands and made his way down her body, kiss by kiss. He pulled the straps of her dress down off her arms bared her breasts and teased her nipples to attention with the tip of a soft, dextrous tongue.

Hedate whimpered slightly, and then raised a hand to stifle the sound.

Beliar responded by rising up and removing the princess' hand from her mouth and pinning her wrist to the mattress. “Oh no, little lady. Don't quiet yourself on my account.” He slipped his other hand under her dress and let his fingers explore her. “You have earned this momentary pleasure, so I suggest you enjoy it.”

Hedate wriggled restlessly under him. “You're teasing me!” she whined.

Beliar pushed himself up, and as he rose his strong fingers dug further inside her. He flicked them once, and Hedate let out a cry of ecstasy. “You're not ready,” he chuckled. “But don't worry, princess. I'll make sure you're well-prepared.” His fingers crooked into that perfect shape, rubbing against a spot that sent heat streaking all the way into Hedate's chest.

“I... I can't take it!” she cried. “This is torture!”

“So impatient,” Beliar murmured. His thumb moved in slow, minuscule circles over her clitoris, and she writhed underneath him, her free hand grasping him wherever it could reach. His skin was warm and perfectly smooth, his gold hair finer than silk. He latched his mouth onto her neck, testing the give of her flesh with his teeth, and Hedate wound her fingers deep into his hair.

He nearly brought her to tears with his torturous pace. Almost immediately before she reached her climax, he removed his fingers and rubbed them together experimentally. He hummed, and then smiled. “This will do.” And with that, he leaned into her, pressing his hips down into hers.

He didn't draw his robes aside, so she saw nothing of his flesh, but she felt him lift the hem of her dress, and then the unmistakable masculine shape of his figure melting into hers. The warmth of his soft skin ground into her hips, and she let her breath out in a gasp.

“Beliar,” she breathed. He hummed at her, so she went on. “When I am queen, will you worship me?”

He harrumphed. “You think this is not its own form of worship, little lady?”

Hedate laughed shortly. “Don't be ridiculous.”

Beliar reached up to squeeze her breast. “I'm not. Sex is nothing but an expression of power.” He thrust his hips, and she squeaked. “You know that, don't you, Princess?”

“I've long suspected it,” she gasped. “But I had... I had hoped...”

He pushed himself up. “You hoped to equate it with love somehow,” he finished for her. He pulled back, and shifted forward again. “Don't be naive. You didn't ask for that, and I, as a devil, and incapable of giving it.”

“So... power,” she breathed. “Does this mean I have power over you, or the reverse?”

He grinned. “That depends on who wins this little game first, Lady Hedate. And I wager I have a good deal more experience at it than you.”

Hedate gave him her mischievous smirk. “We'll see about that.”

“Well, then.” He rocked forward, harder this time, eliciting a cry of pleasure from the princess. “Let the games begin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Beliar claims there is a difference between a demon and a devil. Hedate is probably thinking he's just splitting hairs, but his reasoning is sound. Different cultures have differing opinions on what a "demon" is, and English mistranslates several instances of mischievous or malicious spirits to mean the same thing as "demon" or "devil" when they're really just different races of spirit with practices that vary by culture. According to Beliar, a demon is a being born from the entities of darkness itself. A devil is a corrupted celestial being, usually an angel of some rank, though exceptions exist.
> 
> * Beliar was not always a devil. In fact, he was once a ranking angel, and head of Virtues. By the time Hecate documents him in her tome, however, he has been considered one of the fallen for almost 90,000 years (and that is not a typo). He is well-versed in the dark arts, and somehow he has managed to retain his angelic beauty and golden chariot. Like many devils, he eventually takes on a name to mark the complete loss of his faith, proving beyond doubt that he has strayed from the path his Creator ordained for him (don't worry, we'll cover that later).
> 
> * "Falling" from Grace is a slow spiral for most angels. It begins with a "chink in one's armor," so to speak, much like falling into a depression or an addiction. After that, it's a slow descent into madness, violence, and despair. Beliar's corruption is almost complete, in that he has lost the ability to love.
> 
> Still... as you read on, be aware that all Hope has not been lost...


	39. Break Time!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's that time, y'all! Let me know if you have any questions!

**Ellery asks:** "Where is Prometheus right now? Is he still chained to rocks and that damn eagle comes to tortured (sic) him every day? Since protagonists non quite his children why they don't think about him and don't comes to him Just to tell him that there is somebody who care (sic) about him?"

Cool! Two-part question!

In this current setting, Prometheus is still chained up somewhere in Tartarus, being tortured by that eagle on the daily. Nila’s and Orion’s memories of him are pretty shaky because of psychological trauma. Nila is approximately 20 years old, and that means she was barely a year old when she was forced into slavery. 

Also, there are parts of Tartarus that can only be accessed by certain individuals: the primary handler of the keys to those locations is Hades.

**Charisse asks:** "Christian mythology depicts Hades as Hell, or as a demon. But you depict him as a person. Why is that?"

At one time, Christian mythology, and especially translations of the Bible are slightly blurred with Greek mythology. Hell, in some translations, is referred to as the "Realm of Hades;" Hades being the Lord of the Underworld. So his name became synonymous with the Underworld and Hell. In the same vein, it soon became taboo to use the word "Hell" (childish, I know, but we all remember that part of our lives), and Hades was an acceptable substitute.

For my purposes, Hell, the Underworld, and Hades are three different things.

The Underworld is divided into three major parts: Hades' castle, the City, and Tartarus. Tartarus was a titan who is deceased and whose bones supports one of the caverns. That region is where the gate to Hell is located, and the rivers Phlegethon and Lethe flow through it.

**Don interjects**: "I've been in the military and met generals scarier than this guy! What's up with that?"

Every monarch has their style of ruling, and Hades' is not really all that effective. He suffers from terrible social anxiety and depression, and his absentee style of rule makes him a pretty weak king. Mortals' fear of death, the Underworld, and Hell are what has made Hades such an imposing figure, and he uses that to as much advantage as he can.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Potentially disturbing content; self-mutilation, violence, assault, demons, blood
> 
> Hades attempts to save his daughter the only way he knows how
> 
> Also. Lots of notes at the end. Fair warning.

Hades sat on a stool outside the room with his head in his hands. For once in his entire life, the people around him passed by entirely without notice. And just once, he wished there was something he could do.

Possessed. His daughter was possessed, and by King Devil! Stupid girl... and where was he, her father, when she had attempted this stunt? The thrashing and wailing and gnashing of her teeth were going to be burned into his mind forever, he was sure. He had seen her at bad times, certainly, and in more compromising positions than he had _ever_ cared to know about, but this? The torn dress, the blood-bitten tongue... This insanity was something much more troubling. As far as he was aware, there was nothing he could do to entice Beliar out, now that the devil had an offering he could use and abuse until her body wore down to nothing.

No. It couldn't get that far. Hades stood up. There had to be something he could do, some loophole he could exploit. He strode down the hall to the archives, and ordered the one remaining archivist to help him pull the place apart to look for answers.

The library was a mess of papers when they were done. More than once in a single hour, Hades wondered whether or not it would be better if the archives just burned down. But after far too much time spent searching, Hades found something; a mere flicker of hope. If he could initiate a trade with a higher devil than Beliar, it might have some effect. Maybe. He ripped the swatch of parchment from its tome and roared at the poor scribe helping him. “I found it! Get me Polaris, now!”

His page met him outside the door. “I'll fetch Polaris, my lord. Where should I direct him?”

“Tartarus,” said Hades. “We're going to the gate.”

“Yes my lord!”

He did not immediately go to meet Polaris, however. He went back to his chambers, shut and barred his door, and went out onto his balcony. For the first time in what felt like forever, the solitude did not make him feel any better. He felt so foolish, so humbled... and so very alone. This was insane. All of it, from what Hedate had done to what he was about to do, was terribly, terribly wrong.

He needed some kind of assurance; a failsafe. He needed one part of him to stay in the Underworld, where it was safe. He summoned his bident and aimed it at his chest. It would be unpleasant, but at least the one good part of him would stay in kind hands. The tips of the black blades barely touched his chest, and Hades took a deep breath and jammed the bident into his chest. It wasn't a messy affair, at least; as a part of him, it was impossible for him to cut himself on the thing. It just went straight into his sternum, and a chill went through him as it caught on the energy center in the middle of his chest. He hooked the blade under the lip of the disc, and then pulled the whole thing out with a jerk.

He had done it. He had removed his own heart. Now to put it in a safe place. He stowed his weapon and carefully cupped his hands around the glowing ball of energy. He rolled in his hands, condensing the power down until it was a small, white ball, powerful and substantial enough to even be felt with the fingertips. A pearl. A single jewel, not too gaudy or precious. He took a silver coin and with a little power formed it into the shape of a fig leaf, the perfect setting for the little jewel. He paired it with a tiny silver chain, tucked it safely into a box, and left it on the kitchen table with a note.

The gate did not look like a gate, so much as it did a vault. The door was huge and round, cast in black metal and striated with impenetrable bars. The white water of the Phlegethon billowed steam as it tumbled out of the gate. The entire cavern was held up by the skeletal remains of something so huge, one could find studio apartments hollowed out of its finger-bones. Hades stared up into the towering expanse, lined with the bare, bleached rib bones of the ancient Titan, Tartarus.

“Lord Hades.” Hades turned around at the sound of his name, and Polaris' face appeared as he trotted out of the darkness. “I came as quickly as I could. What's happened?”

Hades looked at the stone beneath his feet. “My daughter,” he murmured. His voice cracked, but he found he couldn't steady it. “She's sold her soul.” He turned a desperate gaze on Polaris, and for the only time since he had met the man, felt no shame for the tears in his eyes.

“To whom?”

“Beliar.” Hades sniffed, and then wiped his eyes and nose on the sleeve of his robe. “Oh, Stars, I'm a mess. I've got to get her back.”

“My lord, you can't go in there.”

Hades tried to summon his ego to counter, but even so he couldn't make his voice sound indignant enough. “You mean to tell me what I can and can't do?”

“This is no time to quibble with me,” Polaris hissed emphatically. “You could be coming up with alternate solutions instead of worrying about your foolish pride!”

Duly chastised, Hades hung his head.

Polaris sighed. “I don't care how immortal you think you are; you will _die_ in there, your Majesty.”

Hades shook his head. “I have to, Polaris. I don't have another option.”

“There's always another way.” The king turned away, and he grabbed Hades' arm. “My lord... Hades!”

“Polaris!” Hades tried. He struggled against his fellow judge's strong grip. “_Nilan_!” Polaris stopped tugging on the king's arm. “I know. I know it's stupid. But I don't have anything else. I don't have anyone else. I have to go in for her, and I wouldn't be a good father if I didn't.” He brought out his scepter and pressed it into Polaris' hand. “You should have been king. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I failed you.”

“My lord...”

“No. If I don't come out again, you will be lord of the Underworld, and I've made sure there will be no dispute.” He gripped Polaris' hands. “It's the least I can do after all the ways I've wronged you.” He finally let his judge go, and began slowly backing toward the gate. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, blue eyes full of pain and regret. “I'm so sorry.” He turned and fled deeper into the dark cavern, leaving Polaris standing at its entrance, frozen by his lord's invocation.

Even after the invocation wore off, Polaris stood there in the mouth of the trench, looking after the king. He thought about calling after him, about running through the dark, past all the things that lurked in Tartarus' shadows, but he didn't. He wasn't afraid. In fact, most of the Tartaran entities shied away when he passed. But Hades had to learn somehow, and if this hellish suffering was what it took, then Polaris had no choice but to let him.

Hades pulled his hood up over his hair and tried to hide his face as he crossed the cavern. Not that it mattered, terribly; a thick, heavy steam billowed from the river Phlegethon as it passed through the bars of the Tartarus Gate. He expected not to be intercepted, but he still held out his hand ahead of him to try to navigate the dense fog. Hades followed the sound of the river and the occasional scalding splash of water on his sandals, keeping him on the narrow strand of hot rock that led up to the gate.

Perhaps he wasn't quite paying attention to his path, or perhaps the fog got a bit too dense, or maybe his hair was getting in his eyes again, but Hades ran headlong into a tall, solidly-built _something _and stumbled back a step. There was the sound of a low breath, and the fog billowed away to reveal a massive figure, clad in red and black and wielding a gigantic axe. The figure turned its head, bronze horns swinging toward Hades like a bull preparing to charge. He lifted the axe and tapped it on the wet rock. “Who goes?” he demanded. Hades pulled his hood back, and the huge humanoid growled. “King Hades,” he snarled. “What do you want, _boy_?”

Hades lowered his chin in defiance. “You'd do well to show me the proper respect, Moros,” he rebuked.

Moros seemed not to notice that he had been chastised. “What does the king want with me?” he asked, his voice a hollow breath from within his helmet.

Hades dug in the collar of his robes for a leather thong he had strung around his neck. “I need to go inside.” He pulled the thong over his head and pulled a heavy iron key out from inside his robes.

“No.”

Hades looked up at him. “What?” he asked. The question was meant to allow Moros to change his mind, but the giant did not.

“No,” he repeated. “You do not have an official order.”

“I am your king,” Hades snarled. “I do not need an official order.”

Moros' eyes glowed out from under his helmet. “What you ask is foolhardy at best, and self-destructive at worst.”

Hades looked at the key in his hand. “I have no other option.”

Moros studied him silently for a few tense moments. “You intend to make a deal.”

It wasn't a question, but Hades nodded.

Moros hummed. “A warning, then, if I can not deter you.” He slowly stepped out of Hades' path. “Devils lie. Devils cheat. They will adhere only to the letter of the deal you make, and will bleed the life out of you if you are not wise.” He lifted his axe, slid the blade into a groove in the metal, and pried it up to reveal a rusted lock.

Hades came up beside Moros and slid the key into the lock, but paused when a breath of hot air tickled the hair on the nape of his neck.

“You will not return through this gate the same way you entered, Hades, son of Chronos.”

The king tightened his hand on the key. “Why don't you let me worry about that?” he murmured back.

“So be it.”

The presence lifted from off Hades' back, and he suddenly remembered to breathe. He turned the big iron key, and the Tartarus Gate slowly swung open. Moros caught the gate in one meaty hand and held it open by only a single degree, and allowed Hades to slide through the gap. Moros closed the gate behind him, and Hades reached through the bars. “I need my key.”

“No,” said Moros. “There is only one key, and Hell will not have it.”

“What about when I come back?” Hades cried.

“_If_ you come back,” Moros growled, “and _if _you are still of sound mind, I will open the gate.” He glanced over a beefy shoulder at Hades. “And if you are not...” He turned his head away. “Well, you will not have the wherewithal to use a key even if you had one.”

Hades slowly pulled his hand back through the bars and backed away from the gate. Whether he liked it or not, Moros had committed him to his chosen course. He probably could have resented Moros for it, but Polaris would have said he was being mean for no reason at all. Hades shook his head, and reflected that that might be where his daughter got that trait.

The air was stifling. His robes stuck to his body, and more than once he had to shake off the thought that he might feel better if he shed his clothes. He wouldn't, he reminded himself. There was no feeling better in this place. This was Hell, and he might as well get used to it. He felt his way along the tunnel wall in the close dark, gingerly making his way over the slick stone and willing his eyes to adjust. In his section of the Underworld, most of the caverns were lit by crystals that refracted sunlight from the Surface, or sometimes by mirrors that reflected small rays throughout buildings. But those luxuries did not exist here. Here, it was steam, rock, and the barest hint of light from the cavern ahead.

Light! He scrambled toward the opening, slipping over the rocks, breaking his nails as he climbed over each obstacle. He had never been so eager to see light in a dark place! Too eager, in fact. He slipped and got his foot caught in between two rocks, and caught himself on a sharp edge, slicing his hand open. He cried out, struggled to get his foot unstuck, and finally had to slip his sandal off to get out. It was only getting craggier and more difficult to navigate, so it seemed somewhat pointless to wrap his hand when it was very likely he would only cut it again somewhere else.

At one point, he actually had to wade ankle-deep in the painfully hot water, but thankfully it only lasted a few steps before the cavern opened up onto a large, flat plain, and he was able to climb out of the river and rest his burned feet. After almost half an hour, he could finally stand to put his sandals back on, and he turned over onto his knees. Then he looked up into an unfamiliar face... and froze.

The creature was almost completely black, humanoid and at least as big as Hades, with a wrinkled face, like an old man, with sparkling black eyes that never blinked. It leaned in close to Hades and sniffed at him testily, and then made a guttural noise in its throat. Its lips parted, and a single word hissed from between its teeth. “Fresh.”

Hades flicked his eyes up at the creature. “What?” he whispered.

The creature let out a shriek, and Hades shot backward, onto his back. The creature's scream drew the attention of two more, and then four, and before Hades could rise, he was surrounded by the fluttering and smacking of huge, leathery wings. Two of them dragged Hades to his feet, and the king cried out and summoned his bident. All at once, the creatures released his arms and backed away, wary of being cut down by the thing.

The first creature pointed at the weapon.

Hades tried to catch his breath, and glanced at it. It was a unique piece, certainly. Perhaps this creature knew who he was by it. “I am Hades, Lord of the Underworld,” he announced breathlessly. “I demand to see the Adversary.”

The first creature smiled a sharp, toothy grin. “It... demands,” it hissed. It cried something unintelligible to its comrades, and the rest of the group erupted in a hissing sort of laughter. “We demand as well!” it retorted.

“What?” Hades asked dubiously.

The creature pointed again. “Legion demands _food_.”

“Food? What food? I brought no food with me.”

Legion hissed in unison. “It _is_ food!” it insisted.

Hades looked where Legion was pointing. He had thought the devil was pointing at the bident, but... He released his left hand from the handle of his weapon and looked at the oozing gash across his palm.

“_Food_!” Legion screamed. The first lunged at Hades, and the king took a step back and pointed the bident at it.

“All right!” Hades shouted back. “All right. My blood, and a taste of my power for safe passage to the ninth circle.”

“Safe,” Legion hissed, almost in question. “Hell is not safe.”

Hades translated that to mean that the creature could not guarantee such a thing. “Can you get me there alive and in one piece?”

Legion grinned. “It has a deal.”

Hades lowered his weapon and extended his left hand. The first creature grabbed his wrist in a tight grip that seared his skin, raised the proffered hand, and dragged its tongue across the breadth of his palm. The acid saliva made boils rise on the surface of his hand. Hades was so focused on what was going on in front of him that he didn't notice the devil behind him until it sank its teeth into his shoulder. His vision went white, and he slumped to the cavern floor. Legion gathered him up, each devil supporting a portion of his weight, and bore him on hand and wing further into the cavern.

Hades' journey into Hell was marked by intermittent spikes of pain, but the constant pressure on his shoulder kept him from fully regaining consciousness. A nick here, a scratch there, the sinking of teeth and claws into soft flesh. And all of it was concluded by a short, breathless drop and a hard impact as Legion dumped his body on a spot of unusually cold ground.

He came to slowly, and it seemed that there was no one around to harangue him while it happened, so he took a moment to assess the damage. The cut on his hand looked infected already, and there was still an ungodly pressure on that one spot on his shoulder. He reached up with his right arm and searched the area with his fingertips, and found a foreign object lodged deep in the flesh. He grabbed the blood-slick thing in his fingers and pulled until it came loose. He sat for a moment, breathing through the pain, and lifted the thing to look at it. It was a tooth; a single long canine. However, looking at it, he could tell it hadn't belonged to Legion. It had been rotted out inside and attached to some kind of shaft to help force it down into his pressure point. All for the sake of keeping him under control.

“Smart fuckers,” he mumbled, and tossed it away.

Aside from the bite wound on his shoulder, there was a thin cut across his right calf and a set of painful teeth marks in his left side. He was also missing a tuft of hair from the crown of his head, and a set of claws had ruined his robes and marked his chest in red.

“Hell,” he spat. “Any other day, I might've paid for this sort of treatment.”

“Glutton for punishment, are you?” a soft feminine voice asked.

Hades looked around for the disembodied voice. “Who's there?”

She chuckled. “Did you not ask for me?” she asked warmly. A set of great stone doors opened off to Hades' right, and a gust of cold air sliced through the sweltering heat. “Come in.”

Hades slowly limped through the doors. “Your hospitality leaves something to be desired,” he mumbled.

The entity laughed sweetly. “No accounting for the behavior of devils,” she said.

The room was well-lit, unlike the rest of the caverns, and was lined with a pale, crystalline substance. Hades slipped on a wet patch immediately inside the room and fell hard on his hands. He wrung the stinging out of his palms, and then noticed the chill it had left in his skin. Ice. The entire room was coated in sheets of glistening ice.

“Watch your step,” she said softly. Hades looked up. In the center of the room was a pure white table, set with perfect little white cups and an oddly-shaped decanter with a handle on one side. A dainty white hand reached out and took the decanter by the handle, and poured a stream of steaming brown liquid into one of the cups. “Have you ever had coffee?”

Hades got to his feet. “No, I... I haven't.”

“You're missing out.” The pale hand carefully lifted the cup to a pair of rosy lips. She had a porcelain face with blonde hair and eyelashes, and the clearest, bluest eyes Hades had ever seen.

Hades took a step toward the table. “How... how do you get... _that stuff_ down here?”

“You'd be surprised what I can get,” the Adversary said sweetly. “Isn't that why you came to me, Hades?”

Hades stared at the Adversary. “Do you know me?”

She hummed and nodded. “Of course. I know you by your vices.”

The king shook his head and gestured at her with one hand. “But you're... You can't be more than... ten? Twelve?”

“I assure you, I'm older than I look,” she said, taking another sip of that stuff she'd called _coffee_.

Hades nodded. “You definitely sound like it.”

“Thank you.” She set the cup down and gestured to the chair in front of her. “Please, sit.”

Hades held up a hand. “With due respect, I need to keep this brief. I need to get back to my daughter.”

She hummed. “Yes. Hedate. I heard about that.” She looked up at Hades, stunning him with those cerulean eyes. “It's a shame. She has so much power. If she had known what she was doing, she might have actually been able to control Beliar.” The corner of her pretty mouth turned up, and Hades felt a spike of familiar heat drive through his middle and rise up to redden his cheeks. “What would you have me do?” she asked.

“I want to make a trade for her soul.”

The Adversary raised her eyebrows. “That's pretty open-ended of you.”

“I'm pretty desperate.”

She twisted her mouth at him. “Measure your words carefully, Hades,” she said. “I don't give a lot of second chances.”

Hades swallowed. “I want my daughter back,” he whispered. “And... I want to see her again.”

The Adversary shook her head. “Is that all?” She laughed under her breath. “You came a long way for something that was right under your nose.”

“What?” Hades flashed upon the winged judge with long blonde waves. No, it wasn't possible, was it? He'd heard stories, but could Polaris really break a demonic possession?

The girl nodded. “Still, I guess I could make a pact for that. It's small stuff, but...” She stood up. “I love the taste of desperation.” She smoothed out a perfectly white dress and folded three sets of wings, and padded barefoot up to him. “It's something I never could resist.”

Shadows began to gather at Hades' feet. That's all they looked like; they were almost completely transparent, and barely darker than his own shadow, but they were heavy and sticky, almost like honey. He struggled to lift his feet. “What is this?” he asked.

She smiled sweetly at him. “Did you really think I'm just this little waif?” she asked. “This is my place, and I am this place. I am in every cubit, fill every corner.” The shadows rose up to Hades' hips, and he gasped. “Do you feel my hands now, Hades?” she asked. “Don't be afraid.” She cocked her head back. “I take that bit back. By all means, be afraid. It adds a little zest to the offering.”

“Offering?” Hades asked, struggling as the shadows reached up and grasped his arms.

“Why, yes!” the Adversary said. “For your request, I have the perfect offering you could make to me.”

Hades' breath shook as the icy tendrils of darkness snaked across his chest. Her cold was sinking into him, making him shiver. “What's that?” he stammered.

“Your despair,” she said. “Let me taste it. Let it fill you and spill over.”

Hades tensed as the chill rushed up his back and into his hair. “Cold... You're so cold...” He gasped for breath; his muscles were rebelling against the sheer drop in temperature, lungs almost refusing to draw in oxygen.

“Give it to me, Hades, and I'll honor our deal.”

One of the shadows that clasped his left hand extended his numbed fingers. The heavy black signet ring slipped over his knuckle and disappeared into the darkness. The shadows climbed up his neck, filled his ears, and threatened to smother him. He took as deep a breath as his frozen lungs would let him, and with his last breath, he felt himself cave under the pressure.

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * There's some debate over the ancient Greek's placement of the importance on certain organs over others, and it's gone on for a long time! Thousands of years, in fact! Certain scholars said that the liver was the seat of the soul or emotions, while others said it was the heart.  
SO! To avoid some confusion, here's where I've begun incorporating some classical Hindu practices, which allows some leeway for BOTH schools of thought. In said practices, there are seven major energy points in the body called "chakras," a word which means "circle" or "wheel." The chakras each represent a certain aspect of the psyche, and therefore the personality.
> 
> The Root, located at the tailbone, around the base of the hip bones, represents one's connection to the planet and others on it. It provides a feeling of acceptance and being "at home" in your environment, and is home to a cosmic power known as the kundalini.
> 
> The Sacrum, located across the lower belly and around the small of the back, represents one's desires, aspirations, ambition, and sexual/ sensual needs.
> 
> The Solar Plexus, located directly under the rib structure, is the power center, provides the psyche with defenses and the flexibility to endure traumas. This is what the ancient Greeks might have regarded as the liver, and thus may have been the reason for Prometheus' particular version of torment; to keep him bound, Zeus needed to take away his power.
> 
> The Heart chakra encircles the body around the widest part of the chest, and represents emotions and emotional connections. For this reason, when Hades removes his heart chakra, he is preserving his emotions and his capacity for empathy, which could be corrupted in Hell.
> 
> The Throat, located at the base of the neck, is the home for communication and expression. In mortals, it can even be used to channel and express the emotions of foreign entities.
> 
> The Third Eye, contrary to popular belief, is not just the spot in the center of the forehead, or even on the bridge of the nose. It encircles the entire head, across both eyes and ears. It is the center for imagination, dreams, and metaphysical Sight.
> 
> The Crown, located at the hairline and following the ridges of the skull, represents one's connection to their divinity; in Kata's words, one's "star." We may explore this concept further at a later time.
> 
> * We've seen invocations a couple times in this story a few times, now! An invocation is the use of an entity's true Name to control them and their actions. It takes a very strong entity to resist invocation, and a corrupted entity can not be invoked, especially if the entity is driven to madness, whereupon they forget their Name. Deities like Hades are tough to invoke, because many of them do not use their true Names, or have forgotten them. However, like most humans, they might turn their attention to you if you call their given names.  
Giving someone your Name is a sign of implicit trust, and should not be done willy-nilly. If you know your Name, dear readers, please keep it to yourself. It is a power that can be used and abused by unworthy speakers.
> 
> * Moros is one of the Primordial Goddess Nyx's children, brother (or perhaps half-brother) to Hypnos and Thanatos, who we'll see more of later.
> 
> * Legion is one of the most memorable demons in demonology, in that it is not one, but multiple entities with a hive mind. 
> 
> * Blood is a powerful thing in many magical practices, and has a variety of uses. In this instance, being unable or unwilling to give his name for proper invocation, Hades offers his blood instead.
> 
> * The Adversary Hades speaks with is one of the five most powerful demons to have ever existed. She displays six wings, but it is unclear how many she really possesses. Humans called her the "shaitan," and eventually "Satan." She is not Lucifer, since, for the sake of the story, Lucifer is one of Astraeus' ten children, also known as Eosphoros or Phosphoros.
> 
> * Coffee was not distributed from Africa and the Middle East until about 1200 BCE. So it's perfectly understandable that Hades has never had it, or even heard of it!


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of insight into Nila's true character.

Nila found the box on the kitchen table the following morning, with no knowledge of how it got there or who had left it for her. The scrap of leather that came with it was no help; it just read, “My heart for my Hope.”

She opened it once, and quickly hid it in her basket for when she returned home. She couldn't let her coworkers see the (likely very expensive) gift. They already thought Hades favored her, and Kata and Orion were aware of Polaris' affections for her. No need to rub it in everyone's faces. Also, she didn't know what the donor was thinking; she worked in a kitchen. There was no way she could wear that necklace and keep it out of her way and keep it clean.

But as she went about her day, her mind returned to the necklace. Someone had given her a present. And it really was very pretty. Whoever had gotten it for her definitely had her tastes in mind, too. Nila had to admit she had often caught herself looking at pretty pieces like this with some longing, realizing of course that she could never find a reason to purchase one.

But what if Hades was the gift-giver? What would that mean? Could she hold a grudge against him indefinitely, resign herself to the eternal bitterness of being denied the company of her other half? She shook her head. As well-deserved as that would be, Nila didn't like that idea. She didn't want to suffer that way for the rest of her existence.

Nila sighed and began prepping for the day. The pain wouldn't go away all at once, but if she could just start _somewhere_, maybe she could begin to heal. And maybe that start was just in accepting a gift of slightly dubious origins.

So, that night, she took the box and its contents home.

“Are you okay?” Orion asked. “You're acting funny.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “I'm fine... it's just...” She pursed her lips. “Today was hard. I dwelled on my losses a little too long today.”

“Need to talk it out?”

She harrumphed. “It wouldn't be anything I haven't said before.” Still, she felt her mouth twitch downward. “It'll be better tomorrow.”

Orion wrapped his arm around her, and said nothing more until they got home.

She almost forgot about the box until she emptied her basket and found it at the bottom, among the day's left-overs. She took it out of the basket and opened it again, almost as if she were unsure the trinket had ever existed, and she needed to make sure it was real. It still glimmered, and it was cool and reassuring in her hand. She cupped the pendant in her hands and ran her thumbs over it lovingly. Perhaps it didn't matter who gave it to her.

Still, something as precious as this needed to be kept in a safe space. She got up and went into her back room, where she kept her basin and a small hanging mirror. She reached up and reverently hung the necklace on the corner of her mirror. Even if she couldn't wear it, even if she couldn't be with him, she could see it every day and take comfort in the thought; that she was loved, beyond any doubt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nila does not hold grudges well, and as such can be terribly naive. She doesn't enjoy enduring bitterness, so she works to occupy her mind rather than dwell on things that cause her suffering. In the past, this buildup of emotions has caused her to get overwhelmed for seemingly no reason at all. It's not a healthy way of dealing with her emotions, but she's the kind of person who doesn't want to be high-maintenance or needy, which means she is less likely to lean on others for support.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Polaris confronts the source of the entire problem; Hedate

With virtually no warning at all, Hedate fell asleep.

Polaris resumed his work in the courts, and then, with the help of Hades' scribe and the page, Ameus, he began the long process of accounting for each of the shades that passed through. He stayed in the archives deep into the night, and all the while, the stress inside his chest built up and solidified into something that was rock-hard and crushing. Was this how Hades felt all the time? How could he sleep like this? Or _did_ he even sleep?

He refused to stay in the castle; he was king in name only, and he didn't want to admit the possibility that Hades might not come back. That Polaris might actually inherit the throne, and all the responsibility that came with it. What would Queen Persephone say? Did she know about her husband's folly yet?

He sat up in bed. Dawn had not yet broken, but there was no point in trying to sleep. He knew what he needed. He got up, went through the minutiae of his morning routine, and took an early morning walk down by the garden wall. He opened the garden gate, took the dirt path up through Nila's garden, and opened the door to the kitchens.

The sous-chef was there, instead of Nila, and she turned around and greeted Polaris with a smile and a bow. “Your Honor!” she exclaimed. “What brings you to the kitchens?”

Polaris didn't have an excuse prepared, so he fumbled for a moment. “I... um... I couldn't sleep. And I have to work in the castle today...”

The stout, black-haired women nodded understandingly. “Well, you've come to the right place.” She gestured to the long, heavy wooden table. “Please, sit. Let me get you something.”

“Oh, that won't be necessary...”

She waved at him. “I insist! Sit down!”

She hurried over into the pantry, and while she rummaged around inside it, Polaris stood in the entryway and looked around. The space was warm, and had the potential to be cluttered and bustling during the height of the day. Polaris closed his eyes. If he could stay here and let the smell of the smoke permeate his clothes, maybe he could take the feeling of Nila's presence with him through the day.

The sous-chef came out of the pantry and set down a cup of water and a plate of herb-infused cheese and cured meat. The sound broke Polaris out of his meditation, and he came over to the table and sat down at the place she had set for him. “Thank you,” he said. He picked up a crumb of cheese and popped it into his mouth. Oregano, salt, and creamy, crumbly feta in smooth olive oil. Nila. He could taste the kindness and care she put into her cooking. He sighed. “I missed this.”

“I beg your pardon?” the sous-chef asked.

Polaris picked up a piece of the cured meat and swabbed it in the olive oil. “You know I don't eat at the palace much?” He bobbed his head to one side. “I spend enough time here, but I usually cook for myself.”

“Pity,” she said.

“Did you make this?”

She waved him off. “Oh, no. That was Nila's creation.”

Polaris hummed and smiled at this. He had known it from the moment he tasted it. “What's your name?”

“Andrea, your Honor.”

“Andrea.” He nodded. “How can I repay this kindness, Andrea?”

Andrea wiped her hands on her apron and sighed. “Honestly, your Honor, I'm not sure there's anything you can do for _me_. But...” She paused and pursed her lips.

Polaris leaned into the table. “But?” he asked.

She sighed and propped her hands on her hips. “There's been some drama in the workplace recently. Before you ask, I don't know the extent of it, but Nila, our head cook, has been going through something.”

“Has she?” Polaris asked. “Is she all right?”

Andrea shook her head. “I don't know. I would say she is, but at the same time... I see her every day. It's hard to miss that kind of change in demeanor. As long as she's not the same, I'm not sure the food will be the same, either.” She shifted uneasily. “So, as long as you're staying in the castle, I would ask that you be kind.”

Polaris nodded. “I can do that.”

His belly full, Polaris climbed the steps to the main castle and made his way through the quiet halls. He didn't have much of a reason to hate the quiet echo of his own footsteps in the corridors, but all the same, it was unusually heavy on his ears. But he certainly had a fix for that. He wound his way around into the east wing, and went out onto one of the balconies overlooking the gardens. There were fountains, monuments; nothing he thought Nila would be interested in, but it was still lovely. He wondered privately if she had a hand in planting it.

He followed the gardens with his eyes along the length of the wall, hoping to catch a glimpse of his beloved, but instead his gaze landed on another balcony jutting out to his left. Hedate's balcony. Polaris narrowed his eyes. That's what Hades had gone into Hell for. With a little more purpose in his step, he backed away from the railing and came down the hall to her door. Perhaps all this chaos could have been easily avoided, if only Hades had believed in him. He knocked loudly, without regard to whether or not he might be waking her, and when his summons went unanswered, he let himself into her bejeweled room.

As he suspected, the young nymph was asleep on her bed, oblivious to her visitor, surrounded by her father's riches. Polaris shook his head in disgust. Such lavish surroundings! Hades had truly spared no expense. Nila would be happy without all this wealth. He looked down at the girl. She was a pretty thing, and he could acknowledge her beauty, but there was something twisted about it, and he couldn't bring himself to feel the spellbinding attraction others had attested to her.

Polaris lifted Hades' scepter and tapped it on the floor. “Wake up,” he said impatiently.

The effect was instant; Hedate opened her eyes and sat up. She rubbed her eyes, caught sight of Polaris and gasped, and scooted to the edge of the bed. “What are you doing in here?” she asked hastily. “What do you want?”

Polaris cocked his head. “Do you not recognize me, Princess?”

“I don't care who you are! Get out of my roo-!” She stopped suddenly as her gaze landed on Hades' scepter. “What are you doing with that?” She rose up on her knees. “How dare you..!”

Polaris tapped the scepter authoritatively on the floor, and Hedate automatically fell silent. “You seem to have forgotten your place, Princess,” Polaris said quietly. “You know very well I would not hold this position if I had my way. Your brazenness far outshines mine.”

Hedate let herself back down onto the mattress. “Where is my father?”

“Your father went into Hell to barter for your soul.”

The color drained from the princess' cheeks. “No... He couldn't have. I didn't ask him to do that for me.”

Polaris harrumphed and took a step away from her bed. “I think you gravely misunderstand the concept of family values.”

“My father _loves_ me,” Hedate sneered.

“Yes, and you love taking advantage of that, don't you, princess?” Polaris snapped. “Congratulations. Your selfish, childish behavior has signed his death warrant.”

“How dare you-”

“I dare because your father _left _me in this position. Now, I understand you have rank, and there are certain freedoms allotted to you. But at least while I am in office, I will _personally_ hold you accountable for every little thing you do.”

Hedate could do nothing but glare at him.

“If he does not return, I'll hold you responsible for his demise.”

“Olympus will not stand for this.”

Polaris rolled his eyes. “Oh please. Olympus has never given a damn about the Underworld. Even Ares would not cross blades with me, and you know it.”

She did know it. Hedate lowered her gaze. Polaris, in spite of being kin to the disgraced Ares, was level-headed enough to be a judge of the dead, which made him a formidable foe. And she had heard stories; tales spun of how Ares could never best his son in battle. “What would you do to me?” she asked quietly.

Polaris paused. Clearly she had not intended this to happen, but the malicious negligence with which she had conducted herself would have to be addressed, wouldn't it? He sighed. “I don't know. Perhaps I should throw you in there with him. Then you would know how he's suffering right now.” She looked up at him, and he cocked his head. “But until we know his fate for sure, perhaps you can start conducting yourself in a manner befitting a princess instead of waving your puerile impulse control like a banner.” He turned and headed for the door. “Your parental visits will be restricted, and your right to perform magic will be revoked, pending review.”

“You can't do that!” Hedate objected, crawling to the edge of the bed and following him across the floor.

“I most certainly can. You've demonstrated quite well that you are not responsible with it or the tools of its trade. I will call your mother to come remove them from you.”

“She won't take kindly to this,” the girl sneered.

Polaris turned and looked at her from the door. “I think she would be just as appalled at your behavior as I am.”

“I don't care what you think.”

He nodded. “Oh, I'm well aware. But we would not be in this position without your blessed influence, O Princess, so now you have me to contend with.” He reached for the handle and opened the door. “Now, I don't care if you like me or hate me. Your father left control of the kingdom to me, not you, and if you fail to heed me, I will not be nearly so kind as he was. Am I clear?”

Hedate looked away.

“_Hedate_,” Polaris invoked.

She flinched and looked up at him. “_Polaris_,” she said, pushing power into the name. It had no effect. He stood there at the door, waiting for her to comply. Hedate felt herself falter as she realized for the first time that she had no power over him.

“I'm waiting,” he said.

She nodded. “Yes, Lord Polaris.”

Polaris nodded, slipped out of her room, and shut the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Hedate doesn't know Nilan's true Name, so she can't invoke him.
> 
> * Nilan is only in his twenties, but because he is Nila's other half, his soul is very, very old. Even as young as he is in his current incarnation, he carries himself with the responsibility of an emotionally mature adult.
> 
> * Nilan doesn't have any great respect for Ares, and regards him as hotheaded. Polaris is by far the more calculating, more patient individual, and has bested Ares in sparring matches a number of times. So saying, he's not at all threatened by his half-sister's inflated ego.


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades returns

Moros did not often leave his post before the Gate. He stood, impervious to the smoke and steam that plumed forth from behind the bars, waiting for the doomed shades who occasionally drifted in from the city, up the Phlegethon toward eternal torment. Many went in, but in all his long years of guarding the Gate, he had never seen anyone come back out.

He had also never heard the screams of the tormented that he knew populated the nine circles below. He knew they existed; he had enough scars from tussling with demons to know how painful an encounter could be, but the cavern beyond the gate was too deep to hear most of the torture that went on down there. That is, until the day Hades returned.

Nearly a month had passed with no sign of the king's return, and things had quietened again under Polaris' continued rule. Moros had no opinion on the political matters, and next to no regard for the ruling body ever since the Titanomachy. But under Polaris, things seemed a good deal calmer, and he couldn't say he disliked it. And it helped that the man didn't use his relations with the Olympians to curry favor. The very thought of them left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He was stewing away at his position by the Gate when a faint echo resonated up from the depths. Moros turned and looked at the Gate. It was locked, both by Hades' key and the weighted door that required his axe to lift, but he had never heard a cry so close. And then, to his surprise, it got louder. If he hadn't known better, he might have thought there was someone wading in the scalding stream. And then, without warning, something hit the Gate with a loud clang, hard enough to rattle the enormous lock and startle the Gate's eternal guard. Moros took a step back. Surely nothing could hammer its way through, could it? Just as he thought it, the Gate slammed against the lock again, and the scream grew louder still.

Moros turned and cried out, his voice echoing into Tartarus. “Mother!”

A face appeared from further up the wall of the cavern, long black tresses framing a face as sculpted and pale as marble.

“Bring Hemera!”

Moros' mother flew out from her alcove on a pair of pitch-black wings, and glided effortlessly down to land next to her son, draped in a black garment that sparkled as if adorned with stars. “She's halfway across the world right now, Moros. What is it?”

The Gate crashed again, and the hinge on the lock door cracked.

Moros leaned in and shoved his bulk against the bars of the gate. “Fly to the castle! Tell the usurper there is an enemy at the Gate!”

The primordial goddess' blue eyes widened, and she turned on a pair of tiny bare feet and ran off toward the city. Once clear of the tunnel, she took to the air, crossing the cavern as quickly as her wings would carry her.

Out of respect for the office, she came clear around the castle and landed on the great Seal. The guards stiffened at her presence.

“Lady Nyx!” one exclaimed. “What brings you here?”

“I must speak to Judge Polaris. Immediately.”

The guards pushed open the doors, and without waiting to be welcomed, Nyx strode in. Fortunately, she didn't have to go far to find Polaris; he was standing off to one side of the red carpet, talking quietly with a couple merchants who had had a quarrel.

He looked up when the door opened, and quickly dismissed the two men. “My lady!” He trotted up to her and bowed deeply. “What can I do for you?”

Nyx swallowed. The silence was almost too much to bear. “He has returned.”

Polaris stared at her for just a moment, and then strode toward the entrance. “When?”

“Just moments ago, but he is not as he was when he entered.” She turned and followed him back out of the castle. “He's lost all his senses, slave to his impulses, limits forgotten.”

“Damn. I warned him.”

“Moros is holding the Gate closed, but we are not sure how long that will last. He will break every bone in his body before he stops.”

“Hades hides a lot of his power. The Gate will shatter first.”

Alone once again, Moros lifted his head and roared for his brothers' aid. “Hypnos! Thanatos!”

The twins flew out from their respective caves at his call; one from below, near a cave where the Phlegethon joined the Lethe, and one from far above, nearer to the solar crystal. Both were tall, gaining on Hades in height, with the family's characteristic blue eyes, but that was where the similarities ended. The reaper's face was slender and somber, his shoulder-length hair straight and black, with a neat, even beard to match. His brother's brow was furrowed and severe, with a full silver beard and hair swept back from his face, cheekbones pronounced and eyes hollow from too many nights drinking poppy wine. Where Thanatos had no children, Hypnos and his wife had many, and a younger face peered out from their caves after his father.

“What, Moros?” Hypnos barked. He cast a glare over his shoulder at his eldest son, who quickly disappeared behind the rock again.

The Gate shifted forward with a heavy clang, pushing Moros back. “What do you _think_ I needed you for?” he snapped. “Hades has returned from the depths!”

“What?” Thanatos cried. He rushed over to look through the bars. “What was he doing down there?”

Hypnos glowered at his two siblings and crossed his arms over his chest with a harrumph. “Thanatos, back away from there, you idiot,” he growled.

“Why?”

“Because he's going to crush you with the gate on his way out. Get out of the way.”

Thanatos turned around and walked up to his brother. “What the Hell is your problem?” he asked.

“Hades is a fool, and you're a fool for consorting with him.” Hypnos pointed to the Gate. “He is coming out of that Gate, and when he does, _one_ of us is going to have to deal with him.” He unfolded his arms and strode toward Moros. “And unlike you, I'm not afraid to get a little rough.”

Thanatos scoffed. “Yes, the bruises on your wife are testament to that.”

“Mind your fucking business!” Hypnos swept an arm out at Moros. “Move, before he blows you down!”

“He'll break the Gate!” Moros answered.

“He'll break it down anyway. The only difference is you won't be in front of it. Move!”

Moros reluctantly released the bars of the Gate and stumbled back, out of range. His timing was fortunate, because only moments later, a final blast shattered the locking mechanism. The Gate swung open, and two filthy hands reached out and grasped the frame, thin arms pulling a ragged, wild-eyed figure out from the depths of Hell.

“Oh Stars,” Thanatos whispered. “Hades! What happened to you?” He took a step forward, but Hypnos held him back.

“He's not right,” said Hypnos.

Thanatos looked at his brother. Despite their differences and disagreements, the stability of the mind was something Hypnos knew well, and Thanatos knew better than to question his judgment.

Hades' gangly figure lurched out from the steam, weaving unsteadily. He stumbled and fell down the short flight of steps leading up to the gate, and landed on his hands and knees a short distance away.

“Hades,” Thanatos began.

Hypnos kept a firm grip on his brother's arm. “Don't touch him. The fool should not have gone in, and he shouldn't have come out, either.”

The twins looked up at a low rumbling sound coming from the tattered king. He pushed himself up and looked at a pair of dirty, blood-blistered hands, and smiled. The ragged chuckle bubbled out of his chest and echoed maniacally around the chamber. He dropped his hands on his knees and caught his breath, and settled his wide, frantic eyes on Hypnos. “A fool, am I, Somnus?” he asked. His grin widened crazily. “You betray yourself. Wait 'til I tell them all... Wait until your sons learn of your treachery, sleep god.”

Hypnos narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

A burst of power forced Hades to his feet, where he wobbled exhaustedly. “She lied to you, Hypnos. Aphrodite lies to everyone; even me.” He chuckled again. “She won't get out... that child won't survive you.”

“Hades, you've been gone almost a month,” Thanatos said sympathetically. “You need medical attention...” Another burst of power knocked Thanatos onto his back.

“My kingdom is full of _traitors_!” Hades barked, eyes glowing with fury. Shadows rose up behind him, blocking the light from the solar crystal. “Your curse is in full bloom, Hypnos,” he said, low voice echoing threateningly. “What do you think?” He gave the sleep god a feral grin. “Not what you imagined when you cast us into Chronos' belly, is it?”

Thanatos sat up on his elbows. “My Stars... he's insane!”

“You just figured that out?” Hypnos asked. “Take control of his shades. I'll handle him.”

The shadows encroached on the chamber until it was almost too dark to see anything at all. That was all right. The residents of Tartarus were used to the darkness.

“Hold nothing back, Thanatos,” Hypnos whispered. “And neither shall I.”

The two waited until the shadows blotted out even the smallest light, and slipped easily into invisibility. Thanatos summoned his torch, away from his body so that Hades couldn't see him, and was rewarded when Hades' power knocked the beacon of light further away, clear across the Phlegethon. With that distraction in play, Thanatos wrenched the dark power away from Hades.

“No!” Hades screamed.

Hypnos had disappeared from before him, and Hades looked off to his left. The sleep god took that moment to toss a handful of black sand into the king's face.

Hades jerked backward and tried to blink the sand out of his eyes. It didn't work; the sand was starting to make him sleepy. He shook his head, but that only served to disrupt his balance, and he toppled to his knees.

“All that power,” Hypnos mumbled, “and even you are still not immune to my sand.”

“Traitor,” Hades mumbled, propping himself up on his hands. “I'll outlive you, I swear it...”

Hypnos glanced up as Moros shoved the gate closed. He bent down, close enough so that only Hades could hear him. “You have no idea what you're messing with, Hades,” he whispered. “You intend to resist a power beyond your comprehension.” He grinned and placed a broad hand across Hades' eyes. “Quit while you're ahead, my king. It's only a bad dream.”

“Release him.”

Hypnos looked behind him at the newcomer, accompanied by Nyx in all her dark glory. The sleep god scoffed. “The usurper.”

Polaris tapped Hades' scepter. “Not for long, Hypnos.”

The sleep god smiled and lifted his hand from Hades' eyes. “Someone to see you, _my lord_,” he growled.

Hades turned his eyes on Polaris, and the savage fury returned to his gaze. “You...” He dug his nails into the wet soil and scrambled toward Polaris, arms outstretched, hands clawing for his opposer's throat. “She's mine! Stay out of my way!”

Polaris lifted the scepter and knocked Hades to the ground with a single swipe.

Hades staggered to his feet again, and Polaris slammed the scepter down, filling Tartarus with a blinding light. A mere few seconds passed, and the light faded, leaving everyone blinking the bright spots out of their vision. Hades stood, the head of the scepter pressed into his hollow chest. He wobbled in front of his judge, but when he opened his eyes, Polaris could almost watch the pieces of Hades' broken mind come together like a mosaic.

“Polaris?” the king breathed. His face went pale, and he lost his balance and fell to his hands and knees. He heaved a breath and then retched, spat up a mouthful of bile, and collapsed to the cavern floor, unconscious.

Polaris stood over the fallen king for a moment, letting the realization of his immediate mortality wash over him. Hades had actively tried to kill him.

Nyx broke him out of his reverie when she brushed past him and knelt to gather Hades into her arms. “He's burning up,” she said.

Polaris nodded. “He's probably in shock, among other things.”

Thanatos came up beside them. “There's an old smuggler's passage that leads up near the castle.”

“Good. Probably best that no one else sees this mess.” He took Hades' arm and pulled him up, and he and Thanatos helped carry the unconscious king toward home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Nyx is the primordial goddess of the night. She is the mother of several first-generation deities, including Hypnos, Thanatos, Eris, Moros, and more.
> 
> * Hypnos is the god of sleep, and is known to be a pretty unfriendly character. He is married to Pasithea, and at this point has several hundred dream-spirit children... and one very dark secret. Thanatos, his twin, is the god of death (a reaper) and a bit of a workaholic.
> 
> * Exactly how much of Hades' ramblings is nonsense? Sorry, y'all. That would be spoilers.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades spends his days in recovery

The nightmares had never been so vivid before in his entire existence. Hades woke several times screaming, and whoever was closest to the room would come dashing in to calm him down. It got so pronounced that the staff urgently called for Hypnos to come help, but their pleas fell on deaf ears. In his stead, however, came a younger, square-jawed god with sleepy blue eyes, the eldest of the dream spirits, de facto king of the tribe of oneiroi.

So when Hades woke again and saw Morpheus by his bedside, he wasn't sure what to make of the dream god's presence. “What have I done to you?” he demanded, grabbing Morpheus by the arms. “What did I do wrong, that you would torment me like this?”

“Hades,” Morpheus said soothingly, “I am here, and I am awake. That means I'm not controlling your dreams.” He petted back the matted hair on the king's brow. “Your fever has risen.”

“Fever?” Hades asked, bewildered.

Morpheus nodded. “Yes. You need rest and medicine.” He raised a cup of foul-smelling liquid to Hades' face.

The king took one whiff of the stuff and pushed it away with a grimace. “What is that?”

“Your son's invention; poppy wine brewed with the waters of the Lethe. I use it to help me forget _my_ dreams.”

“I don't drink anymore.” Hades fought Morpheus' hand away.

“Continue without it, and you'll never rest,” the oneiros said.

Hades paused and looked at Morpheus. “Would you let me rest?” he asked tentatively.

The dream god nodded. “As long as it is within my power, Hades.”

Reluctantly, Hades allowed him to tip the cup up against his mouth, and drank as much of the poppy wine as he could without gagging on the stuff. When the cup was nearly empty, he coughed and wiped his mouth on his robes. “How do you drink that?” he asked.

“Sometimes there's no better choice,” Morpheus replied. He patted Hades on the shoulder. “Get some sleep, my lord.”

And Hades did sleep, at least for a little while. When he jerked awake again, there was a new figure sitting by his bed. She was slim, and her hair was long and brown, and plaited back away from her face.

“Nila?”

The woman turned and looked down at him. “My lord?” The poppy wine was still very much in effect; her features were hazy, and the room spun.

Hades sat bolt upright. “Nila!” He latched onto the woman's arm with an iron grip, and she squealed with fright. “I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I was wrong, I was stupid and selfish and I just don't want you to leave...”

The woman stroked Hades' hair away from his face. “All right, Lord Hades. All right.”

For just a moment, the room stopped spinning, and Hades saw her clearly. She was a good deal older than him, with lines around her mouth and nose, and a worried crease between her brows. Her eyes were the wrong shape and color, too. Realization hit Hades like a stone. “You're not her.”

“No, my lord. I'm Pasithea, Morpheus' mother. Remember?”

Hades relaxed his grip, and let his breath out in a sigh. “Yes. I remember. I'm sorry... You reminded me of... someone...”

“I see,” she said gently. She pressed Hades back into his bed. “You call her Nila, do you?” she asked. She reached over and took a cold compress out of his basin and wrung the water from it. “She must be very important, to have you apologize like that.”

Hades sheepishly looked away. He let Pasithea dab the compress over his face and neck while he thought about it. She didn't inquire further, offered no criticism of him... Just like Nila, he thought. He swallowed. “She is,” he finally admitted. “She's very important to me.”

She hummed. “She's not Greek, is she? I've never heard that name before.”

Hades shook his head slightly. “She is, but she rarely uses her Greek name. Not after what happened to her.”

Pasithea looked up. “Really?” she asked, though it didn't sound much like a question.

Perhaps it was pandering, or just said to indulge his willingness to talk, but Hades turned on his side. “You've heard of her, I'm sure.”

“Oh?”

“Elpis.”

Pasithea stopped for just a moment, and looked Hades in the eye. “You're right. I have heard of her. I thought she was imprisoned.”

Hades made a negative grunt. “Enslaved.”

She gave an understanding sound. “She must think you quite the hero for rescuing her.”

“I didn't rescue her.” He flicked his eyes down at his bed. “I... I actually have nothing I can offer her.”

Pasithea seemed surprised. “You? Hades, king of the Underworld, has nothing to offer a liberated slave girl?”

He shook his head. “Nothing of significant value to her.”

Morpheus' mother pondered this for a moment, and then hummed. “A woman whose affections can not be bought...” She ran the cool cloth over the nape of his neck, and then dropped it back into the basin. “Sounds like you have a winner, my lord.”

He harrumphed. “Maybe I would, if I didn't keep getting in my own way.”

Pasithea hummed and swished the cloth around in the basin, and squeezed it out again. “I'm sure you'll figure it out.”

“You have a lot of faith in me and my screw-ups.”

She hummed again. “I think you forget who I'm married to.”

Hades snorted, and let the smile cross his face.

Pasithea brought the cloth up over the back of his neck, and Hades reached up and took her by the hand. “Will you stay with me?” He glanced pleadingly up at her. “Just... just until I fall asleep again?”

She nodded and squeezed his hand. “Of course, my lord.” She ran a set of cool, bony fingers through his hair. “That's what I'm here for.” Her power was soothing, loosening the muscles in Hades' back and neck. He was asleep in only a few minutes.

When he finally awoke again, the fever had broken, and Polaris stood at the end of his bed.

“Are you of sound mind, my lord?” he asked softly.

Hades squinted at him. The wine was wearing off, leaving behind the unpleasantly familiar headache and nausea that came with strong drink. He cursed and rubbed his eyes, and then looked at his hands. They had been swathed in linen gauze, and he had been similarly bound up on his arms, legs, and chest. “Didn't realize sanity was so uncomfortable.” He threw his arm over his eyes, but that hurt his shoulder, and he growled and put his arm down again.

Polaris harrumphed. “I figured you of all people would know that.”

Hades looked up at him. “What are you doing?” he asked tiredly. He slowly pushed himself up in bed, grimacing as he realized how much pain he was still in. Once upright, he sighed and began piling pillows up behind him to lean against. “You could have killed me, and everyone would've been better off.”

Polaris nodded understandingly. “I know it's tempting to think that, but it's not true.”

“Name one person...”

“I'll do better than that. I'll name five.” He slowly approached the bed, and Hades cut his eyes away. “Queen Persephone. General Kata. Princess Hedate...” He paused and sat down in the vacant chair Pasithea had once occupied. It took him that long to work up the willpower to say her name. “Nila...” He set his elbows on his knees and knitted his fingers. “And me.”

“If I were gone, you could reverse all of the nonsense I put you through. You can keep Hedate under control better than I ever could... You could have a wife; a family...”

“You're still not seeing things from my perspective, your Majesty.” Polaris breathed, trying to keep his frustrations down. “You have to look at the macrocosm. If you die, and either Hedate or I take the throne, there will be war. Zeus will rain fire down upon us, if not for your death, then for any reason he can think of to keep us at his mercy. You think I don't know your piece of prophecy? When Zeus finds out about Hedate, and he will, it's only a matter of time before he either tries to kill her or win her over, because he's not just going to _give up _his throne. Then, even if I did take Nila as my wife, we would all be living in fear. The only way you could feasibly get away with what you're proposing is if Persephone took over the Underworld, because without that option, she would have to go back to her mother, and we all know how that ended last time.” He finally sighed. “But by current law, she's not eligible to rule on her own.”

Hades harrumphed. “Wouldn't be a bad idea.”

Polaris sighed. “No, probably not. But I'll wager she doesn't want it either.”

“Why not?” Hades whined.

“Probably for the same reason we don't want it. It's too much fucking work.” For the first time in a long time, the two men smiled at each other. Polaris then lowered his head and sighed. “I won't ever condone your ruling, your Majesty” he said. “I think it was perhaps the most passive-aggressive, tyrannical thing you have ever done.” He looked up. “But I know why you did it, believe it or not. And I don't know what I'd do differently if I were in your place.” He stopped and amended this with a wave. “That is, given the law as it stands now.”

Hades studied the judge for a moment. “You really love her, don't you?”

Polaris nodded. “I do.”

“And does she love you?”

The judge thought about it. “I can't speak for her, my lord. She connects so easily to others. Being honest... I'm not sure she knows what love is, except what she is capable of giving. And she gives of herself until there is nothing left; leaves herself open and vulnerable to even the most grievous wounds, all for the sake of being completely loved by her significant other.”

Hades stared at him, and then lowered his gaze. How it must have crushed her when Kata expressed his love for another woman. And how amazingly resilient she was to accept his friendship afterward!

Polaris sighed. “If I knew her better, I might say it would be impossible for her to love a single individual, even her missing piece.” He looked up at Hades. “She may seem insignificant, your majesty, but... to my thinking, at least... that is because she is spread so thin. She populates the world with her light; her small, life-inspiring pieces are in everything you cast your gaze upon. And so she has love in her for... literally everything.”

“Are you suggesting the girl is a creation deity?” Hades asked.

The judge shook his head. “No. Without her, there would be no creation, let alone creation deities. She is primordial in a way we have no way of measuring.” He glanced up and met his lord's gaze. “When was the last time you heard from Khaos?”

Hades stopped breathing. The fact of the matter was, he had _never_ heard from Khaos.

Polaris unflinchingly stared at the king. “Do not ever underestimate her. She can be very kind.” He stood up. “Rest assured, I won't be.” Then he turned and strode from the room. The slamming door a defining end to their conversation.

Hades sat in bed, staring after is colleague. Could any of it be true? After what he had done, could he count on Nila's resilience to foster some kind of relationship with her again? The little voice of doubt inside him said he couldn't, shouldn't. The shame told him he shouldn't even bother trying. It wasn't worth enduring her scorn, or seeing her pity. And just like that, Hades knew. He knew, beyond the smallest doubt, that Astraeus was right. He would never see her again. He had effectively lost her, and his hope along with her.

He looked at the bottle of poppy wine Morpheus had left on his bedside table. Helpless to the flow of the prophecy, devoid of any hope for improvement, Hades reached for the bottle.

All he could do now... was _forget_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Morpheus, although well-known, is not technically a god. Rather, as Hypnos' eldest son, he is considered a dream spirit known as an oneiros. As firstborn son, he is the leader of the oneiroi, and often called the King of Dreams. He and his siblings are capable of shapeshifting and manipulating the environment of the mind.
> 
> * Pasithea is also not technically a goddess. She is a spirit called a "grace," and wields the power of relaxation. Although that's the perfect companion to sleep, Hypnos is not kind to his wife, even though she tries her hardest to please him.
> 
> *Poppy wine was indeed Bacchus' creation, brewed with the waters of the Lethe, the river of forgetfulness. It is sweet and very strong, and Morpheus and Hypnos carry flasks of it as they go about their duties. Being a dream lord often requires them to enter the minds of their subjects, and that means having to experience some pretty traumatic stuff, even if it is second-hand. The wine keeps them from retaining memories of those experiences. A flask of poppy wine is considered an essential part of the dream regalia; the others being a staff with the emblem of the poppy and dream catcher, a scarf of invisibility, and a signet ring that can open the dreamscape for the other oneiroi.
> 
> *Khaos/ Chaos is considered THE ORIGINAL creation deity. But next to nothing is known about them, even by most deities. The one to ask would be Gaia, though no one has heard from her in several thousand years. Hades is four thousand years old and has never met her.


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades seeks a solution to the hell of his existence.  
Trigger Warning: self-harm, drug use

Hades watered the wine down until it was almost flavorless, but that was what it took for him to be able to stomach it without significant nausea. The poppy extract and Lethe water made him dizzy and confused, but they were flawless in their purpose; he slept well, and without dreaming. But the daytime only brought back the anxiety and despair of his situation. Each following day, the demons seemed to make time for a new and debilitating panic attack. Before his sojourn into Hell, it was perhaps a weekly issue, but this new breakdown schedule was unbearable.

The last straw came when his page set a stack of parchments on his desk for review.

“I can't,” he breathed, without looking up.

“My lord?” Ameus asked.

Hades turned in his chair, trying to keep his breath slow and even. It wasn't working; his heart was pounding, and tears started forming in his eyes. “Ameus, please...”

The small man came around the desk to kneel in front of him. “Your Majesty, what's wrong?”

“I can't,” Hades whispered. He covered his face with both hands. “I can't do this anymore.” He suddenly seemed to notice that Ameus was still in the room. “I'm sorry,” he sniffed I'm sorry.”

“Should I leave, Lord Hades?” Ameus asked.

Hades shook his head. “No. I don't want to be alone.”

Ameus took a gamble and cupped his hands gently around Hades' shoulders and rubbed his arms through his robes. To his surprise, Hades bent his head into his page's shoulder and tried to gather his emotions there. “Do you need your medicine, my lord?”

Hades shook his head. “It won't work.” He lifted his head and rubbed his eyes. “It makes me too sleepy to function.”

Ameus patted his arm again. “That would be the poppy in it, wouldn't it?”

Hades nodded. “And the alcohol makes me sick...” A light seemed to come on behind his eyes. Without poppies and alcohol, the only thing left in that bottle was Lethe.

His page backed away. “I'm sorry, your Majesty. I hope you'll let me know if there's anything I can do.”

“Of course.” Hades picked up his stylus and pulled the stack of papers toward him. “Of course.”

After that, the day flew by. Hades worked like he had never worked before, and wound up completing a substantial chunk of his paperwork before sundown. And so much the better, because now he had a plan. When the day was almost done, Hades took a small flask, pulled his hood up over his head, and crept down to the kitchens. He paused there, in the dark, half-hoping he would see Nila, but no one was there. The lamps were out, the stoves cold, and all the cookware was set up neatly on the provided shelves. How lonely and desolate it was when empty... and how odd it was that he suddenly craved the presences of those busy people.

Hades slipped out the kitchen door and through the gardens, along the wall and into the City. He tried to stay to the shadows, hunching when he couldn't avoid the light to hide his telltale height. He hurried across the Acheron's main bridge and upriver to where the Lethe and Phlegethon branched off, and followed the river of forgetfulness to the mouth of Hypnos' cave. All of them were probably busy at this time of night, so it was best not to disturb them. He ducked down next to the waters and immersed the little flask, begging the sound not to wake Hypnos and kin.

He managed to escape without being discovered, and slinked back to the castle, up to his rooms. He shut himself in for the night, then took the little flask over to his armoire and set it down. Well, what now? He couldn't ingest the stuff in any great quantity, not without losing his memory, so how could he do this?

He disrobed and got into bed, and then picked Morpheus' medicine. A chill of disgust ran through him at the thought of having to drink any more of the stuff. He looked down briefly at the skin of his forearm, and flashed upon a memory.

“You don't want that ink under your skin...” Polaris' voice echoed inside his mind. He got up again, crossed the room to his vanity, and sat down to study the flask on its surface. What if he were to inject a few drops under his skin? Perhaps on his arm, where the marks wouldn't be terribly obvious.

Hades looked down at his arm. He had wanted to write her name there for some time, and the opportunity had never arisen again. He figured it would take some time to finish it, especially without anyone's notice, and compounding the effects of the Lethe, it promised to be a lengthy process. But the idea still had a perverse sort of appeal to it. He pulled the cork from the flask, picked up his stylus, and dipped it all the way down into the little bottle so that when he pulled it out, the entire stem of the stylus was wet. He laid his left arm across the surface of the dresser, and slowly, carefully inserted the dampened stylus until it broke the skin.

He sighed as the pain seemed to release him from his agony, but it was quickly replaced by a sadness and disappointment in himself that had never come to light before. A hushed sob escaped his lips, and for mere moments, he allowed himself to feel the emotion fully. Warm tears trickled down his cheeks. “I'm sorry,” he apologized to the quiet room. He dipped the stylus back into the bottle, and pricked the skin of his arm again. “Mother.” He pressed the stylus deeper, and began a curved cut, back toward his elbow. He flexed his fist and paused to breathe through the pain. “Father.” The Lethe was starting to numb his skin, and the panic began to fade. Good. It was starting to take effect. He finished the small incision and set the stylus down. “Nila.” He got up and stumbled over to his basin, and lowered his arm to rinse it. It stung for only a moment, and then faded like the tiny billow of blood into the pool of water. He was forgetting the pain, and the terror, but, standing there in the dark, one feeling remained ever-present in spite of the drug that was coursing through his veins; an emptiness that longed to be filled. If he let his mind wander just a little, he could almost imagine how her hands would feel on him.

Hades caught himself and stood up, and shook the water from his hand and arm. “I'm sorry,” he whispered again. “I'm sorry I couldn't be who you wanted me to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * be on the lookout, beloved readers! I'm posting artwork on my deviantart acount soon, and I'll be sure to update the chapters as I have more. Stay tuned!


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hedate tries to welcome her father home... and gets shot down in a way she doesn't expect.

When Hedate heard the news of her father's recovery, she rejoiced. No more house arrest! No more restrictions! She could have her magic back, and with it all the liberties Hades had afforded her. She ran through the castle as fast as her sandals would let her (the damned things hurt her heels), and burst into his room.

“Father!” she cried. But as soon as the energy in the room hit her, she stopped short.

Hades was seated in a chair on the balcony, staring pensively over the railing. His left arm was bound close to his body by his robes, and in his right he lovingly fondled a small alabaster bottle. His posture was heavy with exhaustion. He cut his eyes at Hedate, eyes that were bloodshot and lined with dark circles.

Something was wrong, and it wasn't hard to see, even through Hedate's usually biased vision. “Father?” she asked.

“I hope you'll forgive me for not running to greet you,” he murmured. “My sojourn into Hell was... taxing.” He transferred the bottle into his left hand and produced his scepter, and proceeded to drag himself from the chair.

Hedate let out her breath and took a few more steps across the floor.

Hades lifted his scepter with some difficulty and tapped it authoritatively on the tile. From behind him, a skeletal gargoyle flew up from the buttresses below and across the room, startling Hedate backward again. “Stay where you are,” Hades growled. “Don't you see what you've done, daughter? I broke the very vow I was _created _to keep; that the Gate to Hell remain closed to all but the most wicked of souls.” Sadness aged his features for a moment. “You would jeopardize all creation... everything I've ever done for you... for what?”

“I wanted to prove I was ready...”

“You're not ready!” Hades bellowed. “I did not become Lord of the Underworld by summoning the forces of Hell!” He gasped for breath and propped himself on his scepter so that he could mop his brow.

Hedate was tempted to open her mouth again, to snap at him that he had always been too afraid to use the power of the demons, but this hardly seemed the appropriate time; she couldn't manipulate him like she usually could. His behavior struck her as unbalanced, shifting too quickly between emotions for his mind to handle. One more reason the entire room felt strangely intimidating. She had never been afraid of her father, and he had never tried to inspire fear in her, but this sort of spent mania set her on edge.

Hades rubbed his forehead. “Have you satisfied your accursed curiosity now? Are you done torturing me?”

Hedate looked at the expressionless gargoyle before her, and then looked at the hem of her dress. “Yes.”

“Yes?” he growled testily.

She flicked her eyes up at him. “Yes, my Lord.”

Hades harrumphed and looked out on the City, skirted on its far edge by the river Acheron. He stood there a moment, staring out at what could have been a beautiful view if he had been able to appreciate it, and then sighed. “Did you know I caught you with Kata once?”

Hedate crossed her arms defensively across her chest. She had never felt shame, that she could remember, but the fact that her father had caught her in the act left her feeling violated in a way she didn't know how to quantify. She hadn't known. How had she not known?

The king went on. “I took him aside later, and told him if I ever caught him again, I would kill him.” He looked over his shoulder at his daughter. “I said it just like that. No particular turns of phrase, no threats of torture or judgement. Just the end of his life.” He lowered his head. “I have been so cruel... and it has all been for nothing.”

Hedate took a step forward. “Father...” The gargoyle slid into her path, its stone gray robes blocking her line of sight for a moment.

“Don't say I never did anything for you, Hedate,” he murmured. “But after this... it will be a long time before I grant you another favor.” He stood there for a while longer, leaning on his scepter and letting his heartbreak bleed through into his exhaustion. “Get out.”

Finally, the girl had the will to speak up. “But Father, I haven't seen you in months!”

“And whose doing was that?” he asked. When she didn't answer, he heaved a sigh. “Hedate, let this show the magnitude of my displeasure; for the first time in your _entire life_, I don't want to see you.”

Hedate took a step back. “Do you not love me anymore?” she whimpered.

Hades was silent for a moment, long enough to pull up his chair and sit down again, facing away from her. “Darling, if I did not love you... you could not have hurt me.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “Now... what am I to think if you _enjoyed _causing suffering? What shall we do about that, then?”

He was taking this too far. Hedate pushed against the gargoyle. “Father, please...”

“Get out,” he said again. He looked away once more. “If I should repeat myself again, I'll have you confined to your rooms.”

Hedate backed away, bowed, and showed herself out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * As Lord of the Underworld, Hades is associated with riches, rock, and minerals. He has full control over the castle, even the gargoyles! They are very basic automata, extensions of the king's will.


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kata gets in trouble... and finds out that his honesty won't help him.

Hades took to carrying the flask with him wherever he went, mostly because he didn't want anyone else finding it, stealing it, cleaning it, or whatever those servants did in his rooms. The last thing he wanted was to have to go back out to the Lethe for more, especially when a bottle that fit in his palm could last him several weeks. He made no great secret of it, and it seemed a trivial thing to ask questions about, so no one confronted him.

Kata had not returned to Hedate's chambers in several months, but since Hades' return he had been allowed to resume his rounds in and around the castle. After his lord's return from Hell, it wasn't so unusual that he leaned more heavily on his scepter, and for that Kata stayed quieter and more deferential around Hades. The bottle he carried constantly was something new, though, and troubling, in Kata's eyes. He had seen the ragged men on the shores of the Cocytus carrying bottles like that, clutched against hollow chests like the remainder of their sad existence relied upon the drink within. It worried him, and every new encounter with his lord made him more and more certain that Polaris' prediction would soon come to pass.

For a couple weeks following, life returned to some semblance of normal while everyone tiptoed around Hades, not sure how he might have changed... Everyone except Polaris, who had vowed never to treat him like glass.

And that was how things finally fell apart.

“My lord? Lord Hades?”

Hades perked up at the sound of his name being called, and looked up from his desk at Polaris. He rubbed his face. “I'm sorry. Yes?”

“You... weren't there for a moment.”

Hades growled in his throat and sat up straight. “I haven't been sleeping well.”

“You look it.”

The king cut his eyes at the judge. “What did you want?”

Polaris gave him a confused look. “We were in the middle of a conversation, Lord Hades. And your mind was suddenly elsewhere.”

“I have a lot to think about.” He sighed and leaned forward. “Where were we?”

“Discussing the events of the castle from during your sojourn.”

Hades hummed and rubbed a finger across his mouth. “Very well. Go on.”

Polaris cleared his throat. “Well, as I was saying, I've done my best to keep Kata on patrol in the City and in the Tunnels.”

“How did that fare?”

“Actually, sir, he seemed more reluctant to resume his duties _inside_ the castle.”

Hades looked up. “He was? That's strange.”

“Perhaps not,” said Polaris. He turned away and began reorganizing the stack of papers on a nearby podium. “There were some rumors, but nothing that got terribly out of hand.”

“What kind of rumors?”

Polaris shuffled the parchments into a neater stack. “I'd rather not repeat such vitriol, your Highness.”

Hades twisted his mouth in stubborn irritation. “_What_... kind of rumors?” he growled again.

The judge looked tiredly over at his master. Hades already looked irate, as if he needed something upon which to focus his frustrations. Polaris sighed. “There were rumors that General Kata ended a very... _intimate_ relationship with Princess Hedate, and she summoned Beliar out of heartbreak...”

Hades' eyes went wide. “He did _what_?” he barked. He shoved his chair back and got to his feet.

Polaris looked at the king. “It's only a rumor, my lord. And even so, wasn't that the reason you wanted me to keep him out of the palace in the first place?”

But Hades didn't seem to hear him. He crossed the room in a few great strides and slammed the door behind him, leaving Polaris wondering what had set him off this time.

That day, Kata had organized a meeting to delegate duties for the upcoming month. His soldiers were gathered around him at the back of the barracks, listening to him and respectfully discussing their orders with him and Orion.

“_Kata_!” The name, howled clear across the compound, made everyone stop and turn. They stared for a moment at the tall, gaunt figure of the king, letting the echo fade into the cavern before returning to training.

Kata paused. He hadn't even seen Hades yet, and he knew there was trouble. Best not get his subordinates involved. If someone had to take a fall, he would rather be the only victim. He focused briefly on his soldiers. “Gentlemen, that'll conclude the meeting. You're dismissed.” He waved them off and watched as Hades advanced through the crowd toward the door. “This is going to be rough,” he mumbled at Orion.

“You sure you'll be okay?”

“No,” Kata glanced up at his friend, “but he hasn't killed me yet.” He repeated his dismissal and watched his second-in-command pass Hades on his way through the door.

Hades seemed to have made it to the barracks in record time; his face was flushed and sweating, his robes stuck to his body. “How dare you,” he snarled, almost before the door had shut behind him. “How _dare_ you!”

Kata's perplexed frown deepened. “My lord? What is it I'm supposed to have done?”

Hades swung his arm out and knocked over a practice dummy in full armor with his tantrum. “You took something precious from my daughter!” he bellowed. He took a deep breath and raised his bloodshot eyes to glare at the general. “And then... And then _you_ caused her to be possessed!”

Against his better judgment, Kata leaned across his desk, a rather small table compared to the monstrosity in Hades' office. “My lord, you're not making sense...” He spotted the foul little bottle lurking in Hades' left hand. “Sire, are you... are you _drunk_?”

“How dare you accuse your king of being unsound of mind!” Hades growled. He raised the bottle protectively up against his chest and angled his body away. Kata knew that stance; the king was defending his little vice. “You caused Hedate to feel unwanted and unloved when you left her,” he said, the emotion of a distraught parent finally coming to life in his tone. “How could you have been seeing her _all this time_, and right under my nose!” he yelled. “She summoned him because you _left_, Kata!”

Kata held up a hand to try to calm Hades' antics. “All right. First off,” he said gently, raising a single finger, “I'm not unjustifiably accusing you since you're holding the incriminating evidence _in your hand_.” He used the extended finger to point at the bottle. “Secondly, with regard to your daughter, I did what I thought was best. I did what I could to love her, and to teach her how to love, and she would not have it.” He put his hands down, trying to consciously keep his hands from clenching into fists. “And since we're sharpening our blades, here, I might add that she got it from being _here_. You coddle her too much, and Hecate is too dismissive, and each of you contradicts the other when it comes to actually _disciplining _her! In all the time she's gone back and forth between her parents, she's learned to manipulate the circumstances to her benefit. You allow her to do whatever she wants here, going so far as to let her believe she will be queen regardless of her actions. Hecate's isolated lessons don't allow her to socialize and learn how to treat others, and so you are never allowed to see the torment she inflicts upon others in your absence!” He took a breath. “And that is why I left. I loved her... Hell, I _still_ love her. But I can not be with someone who has no regard for me or those around her. She treats us as nothing more than her playthings.”

He couldn't accept the truth when faced with it; not even from his highest general. Hades marched down the line of bunks toward the desk. Without waiting for Kata to stand fully upright, he drew back and knocked Kata to the floor with a single punch. “You are no longer my general!” he raged at the man on the floor. “You are nothing, and have no rank in any part of my domain!”

Kata sat up and rubbed his jaw. “Well, if I'm not welcome, can I leave?” This was met by a second punch, which split Kata's lips against his teeth. He spat out blood on the earthen floor of the barracks.

“No!” Hades snapped. He reached down and grabbed Kata by the jaw and held him in place while he hissed crazed threats into the former general's ear. “You're not going anywhere but to the _courts_, and when my judge is through with you there's only one place suitable for sins of _treachery_!”

Kata grabbed the king's hand and wrenched it away from his face. “What treachery?” he demanded. “I _told _you I loved her, and that she loved me! She set up every rendezvous...” He stopped fighting suddenly. There was indeed something that didn't make sense, and it wasn't just Hades' losing his temper. He hadn't spoken so much as a “hello” to the king since before Hedate had summoned Beliar. “Who told you I was still seeing her?” he asked.

Hades released Kata and took a few steps back, which allowed the disavowed general to scramble to his feet. He tried to catch his breath and find his composure, but it wasn't forthcoming. He drew his lips back in a sneer and allowed a single word out in answer. “Polaris,” he growled.

Kata felt the blood drain from his face, the blue coming out in his eyes as he lost focus on his bipedal glamour. He looked at the king's feet, and suddenly recalled the invocation that a certain judge had bestowed upon him. “I suggest you leave before I commit an even greater treachery,” he finally murmured, his voice a threatening rumble through the otherwise quiet barracks.

His fury spent, Hades turned and swept back out of the barracks, leaving Kata standing pale-faced and dripping blood onto his desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Remember, Kata is a merman, and former resident of Atlantis. He is naturally not a bipedal humanoid, but uses magic to navigate land.
> 
> *Also! I updated my deviant art page with character sketches of some of my lovely characters. I'll likely be fleshing them out more as I go. Look me up at hotaruno.deviantart.com!


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the hiatus... it's been a stressful few weeks. Here's your next chapter!
> 
> Kata goes to Polaris for help... and comes away with a dangerous plan.

Polaris walked into his office and visibly startled as he realized someone was sitting, uninvited, on his couch. He sighed. “I wish you had made an appointment instead of barging into my office,” he said. He held his lamp high to light the wicks of the sconces on his walls.

“I heard Nila is welcome without an appointment,” said a low, tired voice.

Polaris swung around and held his lamp over a bruised general Kata, unarmed and out of uniform, shoulders slumped and arms resting on his knees. His mouth and nose were caked in blood. “Oh my Stars,” Polaris breathed. He quickly set his lamp on the desk and opened his cabinet, searching for linen coverings and rectified spirit. “What in the Nine Hells happened to you?”

“Hades happened,” Kata said. He took the proffered gauze and dabbed it gingerly to his mouth. “He told me you had revealed my relationship with his daughter to him.”

Polaris knelt before the man. “I meant nothing by it...”

“I know,” Kata said soothingly. “This isn't your fault. He could have heard it from anybody, and it's my responsibility.”

Polaris opened a small wooden pot. “Here,” he said, offering the salve to the injured man. “Mint oil, for your bruises.”

“Thank you.” Kata reached out and dipped his fingers into the tub, and rubbed the oil under his eye.

“So why did you come to me, then?” Polaris asked. “Nila would have been the better choice for a healer.”

“I didn't actually come to you for healing.” He put his gauze pad down. “He dismissed me.”

“_What_?”

Kata nodded. “Completely stripped me of rank and kicked me out.”

“But... you didn't do anything illegal!”

Kata shook his head. “That doesn't matter. In his eyes, I betrayed him and the kingdom. His mind is warped by that damned poppy wine and whatever happened to him down Below. We have to act now, or he's going to self-destruct and take the entire City with him.”

Polaris sighed. “Damn. I knew it would come to this.”

“What?” Kata asked. “Come to what?”

Polaris looked solemnly up at him. “We have to take him to Nila.”

Kata let this sink in. “Are you serious? We're going to take him to the woman who he prevented you from marrying?”

“Yes,” Polaris answered sadly.

Kata stared at the judge. “You saw this coming, didn't you?”

“I had some inkling, yes.”

“How?”

The taller man laughed humorlessly. “I know Hades. I knew when he forbade me from marrying that he wanted her for himself. I also knew he was too proud and too ashamed to ask anyone for help.” He sighed. “The unfortunate irony is that she may be the only one who can help him now.”

“What about your power?” Kata asked. “You have that clarity thing, don't you?”

“I do, but it won't prevent him from returning to his habit. He needs motivation, and there's no better motivator.” He held up a hand to stop Kata from retorting. “I know. I don't like it either. But I warned Nila this was going to be an issue, and I hope she can keep her word and not hate me for it.”

Kata thought about it, and then reached over and clapped a hand down on Polaris' shoulder. “As her best friend, I can confirm she won't hate you for it.” He held up a finger. “Especially since you warned her ahead of time.” He released the judge's shoulder and sat back with a sigh. “What are you going to do, though?”

“Just what you told me. I'm going to wait. It's not over yet, and so long as I follow her, all hope is not lost.” He slowly got to his feet. “Now,” he said with a sigh, “what say you to a little hunt? There's big game to be caught.”

“You're not worried at all about the consequences of entrapping that 'game', are you?” asked Kata.

Polaris harrumphed. “I've long dreamed of trussing Hades up and giving him a piece of my mind. I just never thought I'd live to see it happen. And even so, I think you'll find that Nila will keep his mind well off punishing us for our little mutiny.”

“You have a lot of faith in our dear little cook.”

“And shouldn't I?” the taller man asked. He reached into his cabinet again and pulled out a wad of thin netting. “You forget, Kata, I follow _her_, not the other way around. If anyone can convince him to be kind, it's her.” He tossed the fishnet at Kata. “Now... let's go capture the king.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Polaris' plan to "wait" is a very, very, VERY long-term play. He's willing to wait as long as it takes to be with Nila. And because he judges the dead, he has a firm understanding of where souls go when they die... Which means, if Hades isn't careful, Polaris COULD outlast him, and be with Nila in another life... or even several.


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades gets ambushed, and ends up in the one place he never expected to be.
> 
> Trigger warning: kidnapping, blood, drug use, mutilation.

A knock at his door roused Hades from a drug-induced doze. The first thing he saw was his arm, marked to Hell from etching with his stylus. It was still inflamed from his last dose of Lethe, and he had passed out at his vanity before he'd had a chance to wash it off. Whatever. It looked worse than it was, he was sure. He picked his head up off his vanity and rolled his neck and shoulders. As if the soreness from my injuries weren't enough, he thought, I'm now going to have headaches for days. He rubbed his neck and staggered to his feet.

The visitor knocked again.

“Who is it?” Hades called.

No one answered. That wasn't so strange. There were many in the castle who were too intimidated to talk to him, especially recently. He hobbled across his chamber to the door, cradling his left arm against his body so whoever it was couldn't see his handiwork, and pushed open the door.

The corridor was absolutely dark. Hades turned around and looked at his water clock, and then wondered who in the Nine Circles would call on him so late. Had they run away? Then confusion became anger. Whoever was trying to make him the butt of another joke was going to pay dearly, and he didn't care if it was one of his own brothers!

“Who's there?” he called out into the hall.

Again, there was no answer.

Hades growled and took a few steps out into the hall. “I'll have you know I was _sleeping_,” he snarled. But whoever had knocked didn't seem to care. The king looked up and down the hallway, not seeing anyone at all who might have knocked. Did he dream the whole thing? He rubbed his face. If dismissing Kata wasn't bad enough, it looked like he wouldn't get any sleep, either.

And just as he thought it, the door to his chambers shut, blocking out the light.

Hades gasped and spun around, raising his hands to try to summon his weapon. His long fingers tangled in a mesh of woven string that bound him up in an unbalanced bundle. He toppled backward, into somebody who stuffed a wad of linen into his mouth and wrapped cloth over his face until sound wouldn't come out.

“Head or feet?” asked one of them.

“Doesn't matter,” said the other. “I got this. Let's just _go_.”

Hades craned his neck as best he could to look at the kidnappers, but the only glimpse he caught was a pair of aquamarine eyes that glowed faintly in the dark near his feet. He knew of only one person with eyes like that. Kata. _Fuck! _Hades started squirming more insistently, but it only seemed to make them hurry faster. He shouted obscenities and threats into the gag, wailing for somebody to notice the atrocity of what was happening. But, as they descended the stairs to the kitchens, Hades realized that no one was coming to help.

He also soon realized, as they opened the door, that someone was already there; the lamps were lit, and the ovens gave off the faint scent of char. He looked up at his second captor. Above him was Polaris, his face a stony frown, quite unlike the moderate look of polite interest he usually wore. He stared down unapologetically at the king, and Hades put his best effort into a muffled threat. _I'll get you for this_, he swore, though Polaris didn't seem to worry about trying to understand what had been said.

As soon as the door slammed open, there was a gasp. “What in the Hells is going on here?” her voice demanded.

Hades stopped fighting and looked over at her. Nila, who he hadn't seen in months, was no different than when he had first met her; tired green eyes, hair piled up atop her head and held in place with a piece of cloth... and no necklace around her neck. The thought burned painfully in his chest.

“What are you both doing?” she asked, too loudly for anyone's comfort. “Release him! Now!”

Kata and Polaris let him down into a chair at the table and proceeded to disentangle him from the fishing net. Kata untied the gag and allowed Hades to spit it out.

“I'm sorry, Nila,” Polaris said. “You know I wouldn't do this if there were another choice.”

She looked at him, then at Kata, and then at Hades. She studied the king's bloodshot eyes and stubborn, childish pout, and sighed. “I believe you.” She rubbed her head. “I can't believe it's come to this...” She looked up. “What happened?”

Kata successfully disentangled Hades' left arm from the netting and fought the king until he was able to pin the king's wrist to the table.

“No!” Hades objected. “Unhand me!”

Kata ignored him and pulled up the sleeve of his robe, revealing the angry red incisions the king had carved into his skin in the shape of a single word: Eλπίς.

Nila slowly approached the table where Hades sat and looked down at the inscription on his arm. Her face went slack in shock, or perhaps horror, as she read her own name.

Whatever her expression had meant, Hades quickly looked away. She had _seen_. He had never felt so exposed in all his life.

Nila waited for the surprise to fade, and as she did, a sad sort of understanding came over her features. He was so proud, and that pride had begotten shame; a shame so powerful he wouldn't have dared to tell anyone if he had had the choice. And he had hidden it for so long it had begun to prey on his mind, taking advantage of every little insecurity, all the little things he hated about himself.

Nila's eyes began to water, and she blinked to try to keep herself from crying. “You need to leave,” she said, her voice still soft and slightly flat.

Polaris watched her for a moment. This was it, he thought; the last time he would ever have a chance to talk to her. And now, there was nothing left to say. His face drew up into a sneer. It was _his fault_, he seethed, and he needed to make sure Nila got out of this room in one piece. He reached down, grabbed the king by the hair and wrenched his head back until Hades cried out. “I hope you don't think you're completely immortal, Hades,” he growled, “because if you hurt her, if you break her heart, I will find a way to kill you. When I'm done, there won't be a single scrap left to send to Hell. Am I clear?”

Hades swallowed. “Clear as crystal,” he choked.

Polaris released Hades' head with a forward shove, then spun on his heel and strode out. Kata gave Nila a sad nod and followed the judge out of the kitchen, shutting the door softly behind them.

Nila sighed and rubbed her face. It was too early for this. She pulled up a chair and sat down before the king, and gently traced her fingers over the poorly-healed cuts on his arm.

Hades flinched at her touch, but couldn't bring himself to hide his arm again. So instead, he turned his head away and waited as her small fingers explored the skin of his inner arm, and came to rest lightly on the sigma at the end of her name.

“Did you know,” she asked hesitantly, “I can feel the emotions of other people?”

Hades glanced up at her.

“Sometimes it gets so overwhelming I can't feel anything else, and I have to go home and allow myself time to just breathe.” She rubbed her thumb across a clear spot of flesh, and Hades felt himself tremble. “You carry such a weight on you, Lord Hades. I'm not sure you have even realized how heavy it is...” She looked up and met his agonized expression.

“Go ahead,” he said tightly. “You can say it.”

“Say what?”

“That I'm a pathetic, worthless, selfish piece of shit and you don't want to see me again.” He sniffed.

Nila shook her head. “Why would you let anyone say that about you? Why would _you _say that about yourself?”

Hades looked away and shook his head. “It's all I can feel now, Nila. It creeps through every fiber of my being, assuring me that I have no place in your life or anyone else's.” His mouth pulled down at the corners. “Go on. I know you want to. After all I've done... it's what I deserve to hear.”

Nila looked back at his arm and thought about this. “Maybe,” she conceded. “But... all this time, I was what you clung to for hope.” She pushed his sleeve farther up on his arm. “It would be a shame to disappoint you now.”

“Nila...”

The cook paused for just a moment, hovering there over his arm, waiting to hear him object. But he didn't. He needed this, and she knew it. She unfurled her wings across the kitchen, almost as if to pull him into a celestial embrace, and bent down to kiss the wounds he had inflicted on himself.

At first, it seemed like nothing was happening. Then his arm began to tingle and grow warm. The sensation was beautiful and frightening, and it took him a long moment to understand what was going on inside his body; she was burning out the toxins, filling him up with a light he had only ever dreamed of. And just like that, the flood of emotions broke through to the surface. Hades struggled with them, clawing at his robes with his right hand as if to free himself from the constriction, but the feelings would not be suppressed again. He let out a panicked cry as the light wore down his defenses and inched their way into his core.

That's when he felt it; his heart. It was distant, but it still in the Underworld, and it still responded to the light, glowing in time with its gentle pulse. But it was so far away. Why did it have to ache so? Hades clenched both fists and doubled over, pressing his face into Nila's shoulder. Her hand came up and around to the back of his neck and held him steady while he trembled, and Hades reached up with his right hand to grip her arm. It wouldn't stop. The feelings of shame and despair that he had leaned his entire belief system on were crumbling, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't stop shaking. As the last of the Lethe left his system and the walls around his injured pride fell away, Hades let out a shriek and his tears ran freely down his face and into Nila's dress.

Nila sat up when she was satisfied that her work was done. The king's head was still leaned against her shoulder, and he was holding onto her arm as if she might try to flee. She flexed her fingers gently in the soft curls at the back of his neck. It was the first time she had seen him quite so vulnerable, even since he had stowed away in her pantry.

“Don't leave me,” he whispered.

Nila stroked his hair with a bit more purpose. “I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere.”

He rested there on her shoulder for a long time, letting the wave of emotions ebb. It was comfortable and warm, just like he remembered. His hand found a more comfortable position on the crest of her shoulder, and he breathed her in, tears slowly drying in the warmth between them. If only he could stay here. If only he had the courage to ask for what he really needed. But he was already here, resting in her warmth, soaking in her loving presence. One step further couldn't be so hard, could it?

Hades slowly lifted his head. He felt his strength pulsing back into his muscles, felt the fatigue vanishing despite his poor sleep habits. Courage was something he had never been good at, but for the first time in ages, he lifted his face to meet her gaze. Today, he could do this; today, he could be brave. Hades watched her eyes for a few seconds, trying to gauge what emotions were running through her head at that moment. Confusion. Worry. Curiosity. Fear. He could read them as easily as his handwriting. Nothing he could say could change what he had done. But if she truly felt the emotions of the people around her, then maybe there was still hope, after all.

Hades flicked his eyes down. “I'm sorry,” he murmured. “Placing this burden on you was never my intention, I swear.”

“It's not a burden, my lord,” she replied. “In being healed, you have not transferred any of that weight onto my shoulders. Rather... you have shed it entirely.” She shook her head. “Don't you see? Giving you this feeling of absolute freedom; this is what I... what I truly love doing.”

Any other day, he would have felt the pressure of the silence. But today it made his entire being feel as if it were about to sprout wings and fly away. He had to utilize this time wisely, before the darkness crept back in and he second-guessed his feelings again. He leaned toward Nila again until his forehead met hers. She smelled like honey and pomegranate, and something else that was little too exotic for him to define.

His presence drifted over her, as soothing and constricting as a heavy blanket. Nila's heart leapt into a new rhythm. Did he realize how close he was? Their noses brushed. His lips parted.

Nila shifted backward just a hair. “Lord Hades...”

He quickly cut her off. “Nila,” he said. “For the first time in weeks, I actually know what I want, and it's right in front of me. You're right in front of me.” He cut his eyes down at her mouth. “If you don't feel the same...” He swallowed. “I'll stop. I won't fight you.”

He had always given her the choice, hadn't he? After all he had done, he was at least kind enough to leave her a way out. Nila opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. She missed this feeling; her heart racing, the compassion and affection in someone else's eyes, the intimacy of lying in someone's arms. She flicked her eyes up to meet his gaze. She couldn't say he was unattractive. His expression was so soft and kind in his angular, alabaster features, so unlike the dark self-loathing he had left behind. She chewed her lower lip, and then let out her breath in a soft sigh. She couldn't say she didn't want this. She curled her fingers into the hair behind his ear again and allowed her lips to part.

Hades took that as consent and pressed his mouth softly against hers. He could feel her lowering her defenses, forming to him as perfectly as clay into a mould. But one kiss wasn't enough. Hades let out his breath and kissed her again, more passionately, and reveled when her arms came up around his neck, deft little fingers playing in his hair. More. He needed more. Hades slid from his chair to kneel before her, his hands came up over her shoulders to clutch at her wings and pull her tightly against him.

Nila almost lost her balance on her chair, and broke the series of kisses to steady herself and giggle shyly.

“Sorry,” Hades breathed. “I've just wanted to hold you for so long...”

“Well, don't stop now,” Nila retorted. She leaned to kiss him again, and Hades tightened his grip on the back of her dress. Moments later, he flexed his arms tight around her and pulled her off the chair entirely, onto his lap. One of his hands came up to caress the space between her wings, and the other pressed their bodies together so that the heat gathered between them.

Nila hummed a short objection. “My lord,” she said between kisses, “I have to work today.”

Hades shook his head. “No,” he said. He bent to kiss her jaw, and then her neck.

She giggled again. “Lord Hades, Andrea will be here soon.”

The king sighed and rolled his eyes, then smiled at Nila and kissed her again. “I'm sorry,” he apologized. “I got a bit ahead of myself.” He looked down into her collar and rubbed the small of her back.

Nila traced her fingernails over the back of his neck. “You've been waiting a long time for this.”

Hades nodded.

“Why didn't you ever tell me?” she asked.

“I was ashamed,” he said. Then he sighed. Nila's hand caressed his face, and he looked up at her. “I could have avoided hurting you and everyone else around me if I had just been honest with you instead of going to such great lengths to be sure this was the right thing for me.”

She looked confused, her green eyes bright and questioning.

Hades swallowed. “I'm in love with you, Nila,” he admitted. “There's no one I'd rather be with.”

It took a moment, but a smile creased the corners of her mouth. “I love you too, your Majesty.”

In that moment, Hades forgot what Polaris had said; that her heart was too big to belong to one person. He clasped her to his chest and kissed her, believing with all his might that Nila was finally _his_ and no one else's.

Now if only it could stay that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * clocks were a fixture for ancient Greek homes, too! Clepsydrae, as they were called, most commonly consisted of two vessels, one of which leaked water into the other. These outflow vessels had markings on the inside that indicated the hour. It's useful for Underworld residents to have these water clocks, since they don't have sundials, or any particular use for them, since they live underground. Ultimately, however, Clepsydrae must be calibrated using a sundial, which means the earliest clocks in the underworld were calibrated by those who came and went freely; probably one of the gods, themselves.
> 
> * It was said that Polaris/ Nilan was one of a few individuals to best Ares in combat. While Ares was well known as the god of war, that didn't always make him the most level-headed god in the pantheon. And Polaris used his own level-headedness and ingenuity to his advantage. His weapon of choice was a humble fishnet. He is rather skilled with a blade, but would prefer non-lethal options. Mind you, this is long before the advent of the retiarii, who fought their gladiatorial battles with fishnets. Perhaps Polaris sparked the idea.
> 
> * Of course Hades wrote her name on his arm in Greek.


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plot forms, and two clandestine entities stand at the center...

Nila came home with a whirlwind of emotions. She couldn't bring herself to relate the tale to her brother yet, since the thoughts and bursts of feeling came to her in no particular order, but resolved to tell him the following day, if Kata didn't inform him before she had a chance.

She crawled into bed and curled up there to try to force her mind to reorganize all the events from that day, but she kept coming back to the same internal voices that interrupted everything. The _king_! The king of the Underworld was in love with her! Oh, stars, could this get any more complicated? Was she an official consort to the crown, or a concubine? No, that couldn't be right. Hades had children by his wife, and as such the law didn't provide for concubines. And was she in love with him? Her heart raced when she remembered the clutch of his hands and the heat of his mouth, so it was possible. Maybe. Oh, Hells. What had she gotten herself into?

Despite her internal struggle, sleep was not long in coming. Hypnos sprinkled his black sand over her head, lulling her mind and all its turmoil to rest. When she was asleep, he cut his eyes up at his eldest son and pulled the veil of invisibility from over his mouth. “Get to work,” he grumbled. “You've got places to be.”

Morpheus rolled his eyes behind his own veil. “Father, I've been doing this awhile now.”

“Then don't dawdle,” said Hypnos sharply. “I've seen you linger here a night or two.” He came away from the bed and elbowed his son so hard it would later leave a bruise. “What do you see in her, anyway? A little whore who gives in to anyone who shows her the slightest affection. It's pathetic.”

Morpheus watched the woman sleep, but said nothing.

Hypnos grunted. “I swear, you're as bad as Phantasos. Fine. Feed on her all you like, but don't get too attached. She won't be here long.”

Now that Nila was asleep, Morpheus pulled his scarf down around his neck, revealing small, neatly cropped brown ringlets and the faint shadow of a beard. He turned and watched his father leave the apartment. “What are you going to do?” he asked, trying to keep the worry out of his voice.

“It's not what _I'm_ going to do, but what has already been done,” his father said shortly. He flicked his eyes up the stairs at his son. “Don't get attached, Morpheus. If it comes down to it, I'll take her soul, myself.”

Morpheus watched his father leave, and when he was sure Hypnos could not see him anymore, he turned and came further into the apartment.

A taller, shaggier figure floated in behind him. “This one again, Morpheus?” He sighed longingly. “So much fear,” he mused. “She'll make a good meal.”

“Perhaps later, Phobetor,” replied the Dream King. “She's been through enough. And if Father has anything to say about it, her trials will likely only continue.”

Phobetor peered through his shaggy brown mane at the sleeping woman. “How long are you going to pine over her, Morpheus? Have you _ever_ partaken of her?” He licked the corner of his mouth. “She would be _so_ tasty. The other nightmares and I could feast on her for a week!”

Morpheus shot his brother a glare. “Not tonight,” he reiterated impatiently. Nila shifted restlessly, and the elder of the two dream spirits sighed. He came up beside the sleeping woman, then reached down and pulled out a thick ribbon of her wayward emotions so that she settled more comfortably into her mattress. “Here,” he said, handing Phobetor the wad of energy. “Something to tide you over.”

Phobetor activated his dream form, his body twisting easily into a thin, jagged beast, and greedily sucked down the fear. “You're wasting the night just standing there, brother,” he said, dragging a long, serpentine tongue over sharp teeth. “I do hope you enjoy her someday.” He turned to mist and drifted effortlessly out the window.

“Someday she'll wear your carapace,” Morpheus growled after his brother. He returned his gaze to the sleeping woman. He couldn't touch her; not here. Not without his father finding out. He sighed and pulled his scarf back up over his head, and focused on turning himself into Polaris. He bent down over her ear. “He's just a child,” he whispered, in Polaris' voice. “He doesn't understand how you love.”

Nila shifted in her sleep. “You do,” she murmured.

Morpheus nodded. “I do. So... don't hate me.”

The woman smirked. “Love you.”

Morpheus couldn't bring himself to answer. He sprinkled a little more black sand over her, settling her into a deeper sleep, and left without a trace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Morpheus, the de facto king of the Oneiroi, has thousands of siblings, many of whom are nightmare entities. Make no mistake, the nightmares are not evil. They literally eat negative feelings, and so have to be able to practice a magic called pathokinesis; the ability to manipulate emotion. That being said, upon request, nightmares like Phobetor can be very good therapists, in that they can remove the negative feelings (if not the influence) from a person's mind.
> 
> * No, Morpheus and Polaris are not the same person. If Polaris' previously depicted threshold for violent behavior is any indicator, he would have put Hypnos in his place long ago.


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nila confides in her friends

Nila was quicker about her business over the following days, her manner becoming lighter and sweeter. She found out from Orion that Hades had dismissed Kata from duty, and although she missed spending her evenings with him, she easily found him at the half-way house with Jabbar, keeping busy and trying to keep spirits high.

“You're glowing,” he commented one afternoon. He attempted a smile to go along with the phrase, but couldn't quite make it look sincere.

Nila bit her lip. “Sorry,” she said.

“Don't be,” he said. “It's nice to see you're doing well.” He looked out over the river. “Truth be told, I wasn't sure what would happen when we left you in there with him.” He tilted his head and glanced knowingly at her. “Looks like it worked out.”

Nila raised her knees in front of her and looked at her feet. “When did you realize your romantic feelings for me?” she asked.

Kata blew a puff of air out through his lips. “Probably when I learned you weren't going to take my head off when you learned about my dark side,” he said. “And Hades is darker than most.”

“He has a brightness to him,” Nila disagreed. “But... it's as if he's afraid to show it.”

Kata harrumphed, and his smirk became more relaxed. “Well, if anyone can bring it out of him, it's you, my dear.”

“You sound almost like you're okay with it.”

The former general looked away. “It's not...” He sighed. “It's... complicated. I'm glad you're happy. But... as a person, I don't trust Hades. He is wildly unpredictable.” He looked at her full on. “If he's serious about his relationship with you, then perhaps there really is hope for him.”

“You have such faith in me.” She chuckled. “You must think I can change the cosmos or something.”

“You can,” said Jabbar's voice from behind them.

Nila looked up as Jabbar settled himself in beside her, groaning at the ache in his knees and hips. “I wasn't aware you were listening in.”

“Oh. Did you say something I wasn't supposed to hear?”

Nila shook her head. “No. I have nothing to hide from you.”

Jabbar patted the back of her hand. “Found yourself in another precarious situation?”

Nila groaned and rested her head on her knees. “You make it sound like I do it all the time.”

“You do,” said Kata. “Not your fault, though. You attract some real weirdos.” He looked at Jabbar, and the two of them erupted in smug laughter.

Nila raised her head and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you two can talk.”

Kata wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Oh, we were talking about us.”

The cook smiled and wrapped her arms around both men's backs. “I don't know what I'd do without either of you, but I don't think Lord Hades would ever let me have you both!”

Jabbar laughed. “Someday, my little princess, you'll have a harem that shames even his Majesty's.”

“And you can count us among your conquests!” Kata added.

The three of them laughed together for the first time in awhile, and then Nila hugged both of her friends tightly, their six wings brushing and overlapping each other. “Would you be jealous?”

Kata harrumphed and laid his head on her shoulder. “Not considering how our friendship has gone so far.”

Jabbar nodded his agreement. “If anyone needs a lesson in how to love, it's his Lordship. But us?” He squeezed Nila's waist gently. “We are happy to rest in your light, habib-i.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Jabbar is Berber, but the word "habibi" is Arabic, and means "beloved."


End file.
